A little lady, that she is
Humming and taking walks for bliss
Does she know what awaits at the end of the day?
When the last rays of sun slowly die away?
Like a sunray she is, their sister in fact
For god made her, maybe in a just for fun act
One day to live, no more
time left
No stalling for time, nor achieve it by theft
No time for worries
No time for love
No time for bothers
Or things we might have
Living a small life of little sorrow
No regrets left, there is no tomorrow
Why do we hunt her? For No harm she brings
Since she's amongst the littelest of living things.
My guess is we hunt her because we envy
The mayfly may die young but she may fly
