Sever the Blood in Stasis❌

The butterfly was once a caterpillar, the bird an egg, and the snake a coiled prisoner of its own blood and bones.
And we, as humans? We too are born through the narrow passage of life, growing into vessels of flesh and form.

But as our bodies mature, does the spirit follow?
Can the soul be reborn, and how does one transcend to this higher state?

Before ascension comes endurance. The stage before unfurling is a crucible—a realm shrouded in darkness, fraught with violence and suffering. It is disturbing, unbearable, and oppressive, like stagnant blood breeding illness in the body.

Yet within this torment lies a miracle. The crimson stroke, once thought a violent encroachment, reveals its true nature—a harmonizer of chaos and creation, painting balance upon the canvas of life. Those who feel the weight of despair are not broken—they are being forged.

Some may flee, abandon the path, or succumb to fear. But those who crawl from the abyss with wings unfurled shall emerge into a world reborn—a creation anew.

"Sever the blood in stasis, let it nourish the barren sward—where the land of nothing blooms, adorned in flowers of crimson and gold, a testament to rebirth." 

Angel With Blood Wings ❌