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This life is the life of a butterfly.
We crawl for years, with unquenchable hunger,
driven by our desires.
We must go further, our destiny is in control.

Then dreaming, stillness, transformation.
Beauty is born.
So fragile, so fresh, surrounded by danger.
We just fly for a few moments,

It's the flowering of the flesh.

Then it's over. Lots of crawling, greed, a few hours of beauty.
The wings break, the flowers fall.
The weeds continue to grow.

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