But while the dew is whisked away into the air, to fly into unknown land, to explore and renew, the land is still there, strong and solid, unmoving, unyielding and a constant....
Who are you to judge which is more true?
So the day is gone, the bird flies home.... again...
But you don't have a home to go to, so you just fall in love with the night... n then it dawns...
Who are you to fight the light?
So everything alive dies, not all flames birth a phoenix...again...
But if a peacock lives valiantly and dies a hero...
Who are you to blame it for not being a phoenix?
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