The chrysalis of the butterfly opens slowly in time
Dried by the warmth of sun …until
Gossamer wings of light flutter on…until
On wings of the butterfly my dreams take flight
Wings flutter toward the fall of night|
Where nightmares and terrors unfold
Making one scream… blood run cold.
copyright 2013 LWC

About lenwilliamscarver

A simple woman of simple means, walking a gravel road on my journey, made stronger by paths taken barefoot, pain endured, and revealed in these writings. Mistakes made some taught a lesson some lessons ignored, now learning to forgive myself.
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