Ladybird, ladybird; flying seems to come to you so easily. Red back, spotted up and down. Polka-dotted like a summer dress, what beauty there is to be found! Brilliant in your unassuming form, in your shape exists a majesty beyond the norm. Subtle, small, and seemingly obsolete, what happens when you're crushed by oblivious feet?
Will the sky turn gray with sorrow? Will the sun still rise tomorrow? Will the rivers run dry to supply numberless tears? Will the wolves howl and the bluebird sing of fear? When the ocean has roared its defeat and the wind breathed its last breath . . . ladybird, will they remember your death? Does it really even matter? Is there a point to it all? Tell me, ladybird: do you too feel oblivion's call? It beckons, pleads, and prods. Wanting for more, it's jealous like God.
You beg for relief, so why do you refuse to receive? To be free . . . must your friends, you leave? Ladybird, you're a fragile thing, fleeting like the wind. When your time draws to an end, the very rules of the earth shall bend. Worldwide mourning shall begin.
This was written for a friend who attempted to commit suicide several months ago and has now descended into heavy drug use. Her name is Song and she's a beautiful daughter of Elohim. For those of you who don't know what a Ladybird is, it's often regarded as one of the most (some would say few) beautiful insects in the world. We gave Song the nickname ladybird because she liked the old nursery rhyme associated with it and often said that if you caught one you'd get one wish to help someone other than yourself.
She doesn't have facebook or much social contact, but I'd love it if some of you guys would say something so I could print it out and give it to her. If you know anyone who'd want to say something then that would be awesome. I want to show her that the world WOULD mourn if she left it, and that there are people who care. Thanks, love you guys.