"Transformation thrives in the delicate balance between the seen and the unseen."
A woman sways in hues of crimson blooms,
Her presence dances with twilight's soft glooms.
Petals spiral down like laughter in flight,
While butterflies weave through the fabric of light.
A shadow unfolds beneath the ancient tree,
Where magic entwines with what eyes cannot see.
In this garden of whispers she learns to embrace,
The beauty of echoes that time can't erase.
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