A Metamorphisis
In a haze I walk.
My thundering heart
gives me away
as I wonder:
Where will this path will take me?
Through this maze I stalk.
My tired, worn feet
shuffling along
and I mutter:
What’s the use, if you forsake me?
As though dazed, I balk.
My confused thoughts
stopping still
as I ponder:
Which new tragedy will wake me?
Now I’m crazed, and I talk.
Harsh, angry words
spilling forth
as I tender:
What sort of fool would this make me?
No malaise; none will gawk.
Resolution
gives me strength
and I utter:
I am awake; no need to shake me.
