Monarch

A butterfly with ripped design and doomed destiny,
thrust out into a cold war of constant struggle,
the monarchs stanch design is of ignorant folly,
wasted on mere seconds of summers golden sun.
Nature is said to be perfect and a force uncontrolled,
but when I see the monarch crested diadem its absurd,
flawed by its own devolution to be reborn jokingly,
only to fly straight into a shocking demise laden bug zapper,
or landing on a poor saps desk to be swatted heartlessly,
whenever the monarch flits to and fro stupidly happy,
it always makes me wonder why humans survive at all.