Metamorphosis

A place so dry my throat sticks to itself.

Where my breathe catches

and words wont come out.

Though I try.

Though I push and strive.

I can see through your eyes, and you don't believe in me.

But until you meet your end,

you don't know which way you'll bend.

Wrapping yourself up in a protective sheath.

You bend over backwards to find answers for your grief.

Fragmented and laid out on the ground;

fallen, broken, no hope of getting out.

With the sadness that runs in your veins–

what will you do with it then?

When you have come to your own wits' end.

Will the light become visible from the inside–out?

Will your chrysalis come to discover

that it's starting to break down.

A metamorphosis.

Crack, tear, squeeze and push;

more colorful and astounding than ever before.

Through the protective shell,

into the light–

stronger this time.

And it's ok

because when it's your turn to transfigure

we'll be here.

You're not the first.

You're not the only.

So let us usher you into the beautiful existence

of your own divine, and the one true Holy.