The Purpose of Being
The butterfly climbs mercifully from its cocoon
into the morning light.
The morning sunrise hitting upon his wings
as he spreads them to feel the movement of the wind.
He is finding his purpose. What is our purpose?
To create, to destroy
To love , to hate
To laugh, to cry
To live, to die
What is our purpose?
The butterfly flutters his way across the open field
towards the morning light
as if there was no tomorrow... knowing there is no tomorrow
knowing his purpose
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