Metamorphosis

Desperate
To be seen,
Desperate
To live.

Now is the winter of our discontent,
Made glorious summer—
Yet,
Our rose would not bloom.

Tossed in tempest, a furtive life is fostered,
Within the shadows, I seek her,
An elusive murmur in the void.
She yearns for a final visage,
Metamorphosing within her chrysalis.

She emerges
transformed,
Wings unfurled,
A spirit truly liberated,
Apotheosis bestowed.