Chasing Empty Butterflies

For the briefest of moments
YOU CAUGHT ONE.
The most perfect winged creature.
You peak in your palms to have a look and it
slips through your fingers.
It flutters away so effortlessly,
to yourself you say
“You should never be caged.”
But little did you know, a war would be waged
inside you.
A battle of well-intentioned notions only to be
bombarded with debris in constant motion.
Leaving shambles of memories in ruins,
wading through them only to realize
your everlasting garden will always be there for you to peruse in.