Song of Butterflies

Here is a story about a little girl
She was fresh and pretty
Like a little bird
She wished to take a train
Excited, so happy
She didn't understand
The innocent couldn't see

A tiny smile at her mother
A flash of light in this blackness
Looking at her daughter
She concealed her sadness
"Nestle up to me, take my hand
And close your eyes
I'll sing for you a melody
A song of butterflies."

Packed into a train
People, bodies, just numbers
Women implored in vain
Not a look, not an answer
Doors were slammed and locked
People couldn't figure out
Why? What was their crime?
Except to be alive

Some of them gave their views
But nobody really knew
What would they have to do?
Would they meet their men too?
Everyone was at prayer
Hands up to the sky
A gloomy rattle for an answer
The train rushed in the night

The awful trip came to an end
No more hopes, it was too late
Colors were dead in that strange land
Every word was scorn and hate
In the air, a dreadful smell
No more humanity
Here the gates of Hell
Death's pride and vanity
Mother, daughter together
Tragic pawns in Evil's game
Hand in hand forever
Angels released them from pain