Deaths Garden

There is a white butterfly... On this bullet of bone.
Shot from a gun, it's owner sits on a throne.
The fate of this man is one that's sown.
Bone seeds planted in a death garden.
Now grown he'll never receive a pardon.

His crimes paid for his blood.
Bone seeds has become a crimson bud.
Proving his innocences just a dud.
Thorny with leaves dead and brown.
On his throne he now sits with a crown.

The little butterfly... Contrasts the blood red,
A innocent soul, you'll never make dead.
His body paid for his crimes, he bled.
The king he served the justice well.
But for murder his body will go to hell.