I am a butterfly.
The coloured wings,
The vanity of my life
when paralyzed by the sting of a spider with a diabolic face
The spider that looms in the dark
but wears white in the light
the true king of comouflage
-all tells it.
They say I was a catterpillar.
Before that, a defenseless being
metamorphosing in cocoon of years.
as if it would make my fears
of becoming anything else
or not becoming anything at all
and facing the fate of being a butterfly
-stay hidden.
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