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The caterpillar enters into the cocoon stage hiding from the light til the time is right for the butterfly to emerge and take flight and dazzled by its beauty even the winds stop their howling and the rocks of the centuries pause to take note Is this enough? It’s not too early or too late to tell It’s just something the war torn battered spirits need to replenish their sinking souls as hope springs eternal so too does the triumph of love emerge in the face of death— on the eve of destruction to lift the deflated prophets of the dream’s final truth

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

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