Dragonfly on broken stem,
a perfect photograph of Zen
With wings of paper,

physique so lean,
with eyes so many, a panoramic scene,
he sees everything but the end


VERSE 2:
A simple gust and he's unpinned,

floating freely on the wind
From leaf to leaf, no matter where,
from stalk to stalk, without a care,

but this battle he can't win

He flies, he flies

He dies, he dies

Now merely days since his flight began,

his final moment is at hand
No time to move, already too late,
now none to do but meet his fate,

nothing but a meal for the bigger man