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![]() Only to be stifled by ourselves as we try to present a certain image.Ĭaged, the butterfly flutters its wings hopfullyĪt some point or anotherthe cage is unlocked and the butterfly ![]() ![]() Unknow to us at birth it is at the lowely caterpillar stage The carrier of dreams, messages, wishes, thoughts Is the bright translucent red of the rainbow, So the blood of the innocent and the tears of those who mourn,Īre the tears of happiness and forgivness from the clouds, We can see the reflections of our souls as we mourn?Īnd when our rain rids those pools of red, Will the tears dilute the blood to the point where, Tears more clear and more pure then any ocean current, I’ve stepped on a moth and cried because of it,īut no tears have I shed for a lone, dead, stranger of a soldier.įor my eyes rain for the spirits of the innocent and for the great loss,Īs well as the pools of blood beneath them.Īnd when all the tears of the silent have befallen into thse pools, So she pulled that trigger & the seams fell apart,įinally she was able to feel as if nothing was wrong, Twisting & turning & leaving all sanity behind.īut that – my friends – is a treacherous lie,įor nothing heals the damage that type of pain brings, Her emotions had warped into a demented theme park ride, His presence lingered on her body & in her mind, ![]() Long after he had gotten his fill & tossed her aside, Unable to prevent him from getting his way. But whose pain & humiliation tore her world apart,īy chaining her to him with a strong vise. ![]()
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