She's drifting in sleep, night and day,
By the painkiller injection, pain numbing away.
Wane and withered body, like prune
Which hardened day by day as a cocoon.
Not waking, she'd dreaming to fly in the sky
To be a beautiful butterfly.
Leaving the ninety years, in bittered
Sorrow of her children, at last she'd flittered.
(Fed.,2025, Kinsley Lee)
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