Butterfly
Y yoonoos peerbocus
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Sound is my slumber but rude my awakening;
low my chrysalid origin, but high my carnelian hope,
hard the time I endure in but harder the hurt
of cleansing of my negative selves, thoughsoothing
is the growth of the wings
of consciousness, yet strange is
the resurrection of my self essence
from the dark cocoon, but stranger still
my transformation into a winged flower.
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