Chrysalis

Inwards, inwards the young caterpillar
stewed. Sweetly it settled, beating in a blanket; safe.
Up in the branches it would
be due.

Outraged, nature sent a
myriad of shots. For such
security shocked nature,
provoking the dispatch of
the most deceptive assailant.

Slyly, shyly did one curséd maggot
find his bunker.
Proving deadly the whitest of the mob
ate its way between the spindled ribs
into the deepest atrium
polluting each passion.

Twelve days passed, and the ivory cage
split.
None heard a delicate flutter
as his blush red wings were missing.
A mild cry left the cavity
echoing the sound of heartache.

Out of the torn fibres came a legion of dark flies.