freeing himself from his chrysalis prison?
I am sure you do.
I have felt your strain against the walls
your frustration
fighting so hard for so long
to break through.
Yes, you know his sorrow
as I have — but greater
you suffer more deeply than ever have I.
But I know something you do not:
the blinding glory of the light
the rushing wind of winsome flight
the confidence of crimson might
to never, never fade.
It will not be long.
Do you know?
the thicker the walls, the stronger the wings
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