Kite Dreams

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Fable to sable
Right to wrong

In that unheralded moment
You soak in glory

A little butterfly
Turns to an ugly moth

And a flame stands
In an oxymoron

Called fame. Ebb
Becomes a sentence

And destiny is
Erosion paying forward

A levy of self
Stitching a mask

That with time
Turns to skin.

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