The Cacoon

Learning how to let go of control,
I will not let it keep me on hold.
So got dam bold,
gotta lighten up the coal.
Let the fire burn through the old,
the heat oils the rust,
& the ashes turn to dust.
The smoke clears the ear,
eye am in tune,
now eye can hear.
The new will soon bloom
something great from the womb,
& eye will become the butterfly out of the cacoon.

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