Wednesday, May 15, 2019

The Unknown Dream...

Butterfly, butterfly

Spread your wings,

to see you fly.

In the night,

in the sky.

Butterfly, butterfly.


The living way,

not night or day.

There in between,

the struggle plays.


What sight does bring,

the blindness draws.

What hearing bares,

does deafness pause.


We think we know,

what lays extreme.

Yet how we fear,

what is unseen.


 _    _      _ _   _                        _ _   _               
| |  | |    | | | | |                      (_) | | |              
| |  | | ___| | |_| |__   ___ _ ____      ___| |_| |__  ___ _ __  
| |/\| |/ _ \ | __| '_ \ / _ \ '__\ \ /\ / / | __| '_ \/ __| '_ \ 
\  /\  /  __/ | |_| | | |  __/ |   \ V  V /| | |_| | | \__ \ |_) |
 \/  \/ \___|_|\__|_| |_|\___|_|    \_/\_/ |_|\__|_| |_|___/ .__/ 
                                                           | |    
                                                           |_| 

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