Butterfly
She floats along a spiraling, intertwining trail.
With wingtips made of broken dreams increasingly frail.
She glides up high for all the world to see.
Her wings reflect every shade of color in every detailed degree.
The path she flies is wounded with the mists of despair.
But she ensues every moment unconsciously with threads of dare.
She flies with the remnants of shadowed yesterdays.
All around the atmosphere spirals shades of grays.
But through the wind she never waivers to left or to right.
Her journey glides relentless through the break of engrossing night.
Far beyond the maze of a dry and withered pit.
She carries fire of hope, it is her courage and her whit.
And even though one day her time will come to die.
Her legacy will continue far away to ever fly.
Because her dreams of love have been forever made.
And her eternal beauty of life shall never alter or fade.
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