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Metamorphosis
Cocooned inside his web of lies
 He comfortably waits for the restricting embrace
 The seizure of his air supply to cut off the slightest of truths
 That may seek to invade this unholy temple of deceit and untruth
 
 Slowly dissolving his innermost faith
 To be devoured by the unrighteous and egregious falsehoods
 Of the undying ways of the apocryphal world
 He slowly transforms into a creature of deception
 
 Molded by forces distorted and corrupt
 His metamorphosis warps into fury and hate
 Invoked by lies whispered from shrouded corners
 Spewed forth from lips frothing with counterfeit validities
 
 He sleeps to accelerate his changes
 As much as to escape his liquid reality
 Yet inside his cocoon his sleep is not solid
 Interrupted not by his malicious caretakers, but by dreams
 
 At the depth of his core
 Where not even the most vicious of lies may lay seed
 A single kernel of truth has taken root
 Slowly pulsing life into his fading and truthful heart
 
 His dreams are of sight
 Peering through the veils that cover his eyes
 Seeing that light that bursts into the darkness and pours forth
 Viewing the world through eyes that pierce through the lies
 
 He sees the beauty behind the curtain
 Austere and clear contrasting the murky decadence
 The rust of infection peeling away
 Revealing the shining truth that unmasks the conflagration
 
 His dreams shift before he wakes
 Yet he will not awaken in short
 Than simply the immaculate and pure of life
 
 He walks as he dreams past homes and houses
 Through fields where others laugh and dance
 On roads where children run and play
 Past smiling faces in front of closed doors
 
 He senses something behind their smiles
 Something lurking beneath their laughter that almost breaks the surface
 His unease grows as he walks farther on, coming to an open door
 The facade is shattered as he views the true veracity
 
 Inside the houses are decrepit
 Those inside live in fetid, mephitic squalor
 He looks upon once smiling faces now rotting with disease
 Then turns back around at the cries of revulsion and terror
 
 Behind him the fields are barren
 The roads have become desolate and decomposed
 The houses now show the decay inside
 And the faces he passed now stare with haunted eyes
 
 No mirthful laughter floats through the air
 Angry yells fill the empty spaces
 He turns to flee as they race madly towards him
 His own mind still unable to still unable to grasp what he unknowingly released
 
 His dreaming ends as his mind is transported
 His unconscious self thrust back into his sleeping body
 His metamorphosis shifts once again
 And his cocoon begins to fade and fray as its charge slowly awakens
 
 Thoughts rush about his once focused mind
 Diluting the once searing conviction put into his hands at the beginning 
 That the world is a place filled only with desperation and loathing
 Injecting the certainty of doubt into his formerly blackened heart
 
 He contemplates what he has learned
 Processing each truth and evaluating every lie
 Seeking the answer to an unknown question
 Searching through the rabble to find what beckons him
 
 It comes to him as he reaches out
 Biting and injecting its venomous reality
 Stinging and filling him with the vitriolic cure for his sickness
 Dying in his hands as he feasts upon its actuality 
 
 He awakens with his eyes still closed
 He reaches out and brushes the smooth interior of his silken chamber
 Feels along the downy surface until he finds a single crack
 Then rips away at the placid surface
 
 He digs and rives against his encasement
 As the world watches the quivering and shaking
 Awaiting his emergence to see the results of his change
 To view what their careful menstruations have wrought
 
 He thrusts a hand into the waiting air
 At last breaking through the dry shell that had once sustained him
 Cradled him throughout his metamorphosis 
 He emerges from his cocoon and stands atop the hollow shell
 
 He stands high atop the world 
 Placed there not of his own accord 
 But by that of those who wished him changed
 His eyes remain closed but the he does not See he has sight
 
 He views the world through others’ eyes
 Their lives as they are presented to them
 Objective to them by the subjection of others
 He is viewed upon by both pawn and player
 
 At last he opens his eyes
 All those cast about him recoil from the sight
 For he Sees the virulent pacific of the world 
 And all who gaze upon his form know
 
 His left eye shines with malicious and sanguine dark
 Seeing the truth that lays entangled behind the loathful lies
 His right eye radiates ruinous, remorseful light
 For he Sees that the lies are necessary when the truth is what destroys
 
 He Sees and the world trembles
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