The Cocoon is dark and cold, I feel suffocated inside, I feel my end is near, And then, I see sunlight. The sun was setting red, My Cocoon cracks a little. Scared as I was in it, Is that blood I see? No, the red was a painted sky, And perhaps some reflections of it around me. I flutter restless to realise, The Cucoon has finally cracked open I was as free as a bird flying in the sky. My wings emerged, as red as the sun, Or perhaps a drop of blood on a human hand. I was free. Liberated. Renewed. Or was I? My soul remains trapped, Inside a new body of mortality. When you open your personal diary and find lines to share from it. ❤️
