Butterfly
The time comes for things to pass,
To float about within a realm of which we have
little understanding.
The time has come for people to pass,
To take with them the secrets of their lives
which have never been released.
Time comes and time goes, it passes upon
The wings of a butterfly whose life is as short
as a breath.
Their time is spent creating new life
As ours should be.
Whose time is spent, never alone, never caring
About time.
The time comes for all to pass, but others remain
To continue to fight for no time.
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