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Echo in a VacuumI hear a gentle sound of a butterfly singing, The haunting sound of silence fills the air, In the pitch darkness I can see it winging, Striking colours allowing the blind to share, Its soft texture gives a sense of feeling, To the coldest heart, to the hardest stone, To one without passion a touch of healing, To the lifeless mortals a spirit has grown, A soft breeze flows over its wings of lace, Floating aloft like an abandoned feather, Movement of beauty dancing with grace, Across a rolling hillside of purple heather, Welcome to my dream, my nocturnal creation, Where I just paint my world as I want it to be, Where I can be free spirit in my imagination, Be absent from limitations of what I want to see Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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