A perfect butterfly.

I have watched you for days in that lonely courtyard.

No flowers.

Why did you stay?

At gloaming, I come to find you trapped in that spider's grip.

I would have intervened but her poison was sunk deep into your back.

Oh, how you struggled as the agony flowed through your heart.

You were our lady ...queen of butterflies.

A monarch.

Each ironic blow killing both death swimming between the other.

Who had the last laugh?

A perfect truth of nature, yet so meaningless.

The next day and with the first dew of morning death.

A Black widow, facing the monarch.

Perfect invincible pray and lethal predator.

The widow has deposed the queen. 

The queen is dead.

Long live the queen.

~mliarrr