One can never know what lies within the world and all its enigmas. The anguish, bloodshed, drudgery that goes into creating one's traits. One who grew up in an atrocious surrounding, with no maternal figure whatsoever, would be the frailest kind of human. Affirming to the world's concept, no creature can last without compassion from one another, but what if someone was already anesthetized from the beginning?
In contemplation of a butterfly spreading its dazzling wings, they must go through a long phase of solitude in a chrysalis. As butterflies are an allegory for mortals, one must have to go through several more incisions and solitude in order to endure. The journey will not be as smooth as flipping a coin, evidently. Some may lose their ardor, benevolence, or even themselves. But some may discover all of them at once. For all, one knows discovering oneself is not for him in particular, as he lost himself during the crusade in his own seclusion.
In contemplation of a butterfly spreading its dazzling wings, they must go through a long phase of solitude in a chrysalis. As butterflies are an allegory for mortals, one must have to go through several more incisions and solitude in order to endure. The journey will not be as smooth as flipping a coin, evidently. Some may lose their ardor, benevolence, or even themselves. But some may discover all of them at once. For all, one knows discovering oneself is not for him in particular, as he lost himself during the crusade in his own seclusion.