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Tangled in the threads of its deeds
Like fate scoops up a fish, struggling in a net
Its brittle wings are torn by the tears
as it trembles in cold sweat
The spider comes, a thirst in its eyes
The venomous fangs sink into the soul
Too late now, to mourn its punctured wings,
to take to the sky
If only it could be, just one more time
Engrave the beat, flap your wings
'til you feel you are complete
Oh you tragic butterfly
Despairing, craving it, that singular last
ray of light still shining down on bitter wings
Like a butterfly
Soaring in the sky like a butterfly