Once a pallid Vestal Doubted truth in blue; Listed red in ruin, Harried every hue; Barricaded vision, Garbed herself in sighs; Ridiculed the birthmarks Of the butterflies.
Nathalia Crane
vision ruins truth
Finally she faltered; Saw at last, forsooth, Every gaudy color Is a bit of truth. Then the gates were opened; Miracles were seen; That instructed damsel Donned a gown of green; Wore it in a churchyard, All arrayed with care; And a painted rainbow Shone above her there.
miracles truth
Let go the lure The striving to unmake; Behold the truth Whenever heart may ache There is a glory In a great mistake.
mistakes glory truth
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