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.