Metamorphosis | Teen Ink

Metamorphosis

April 5, 2010
By mastema19 BRONZE, Frisco, Texas
mastema19 BRONZE, Frisco, Texas
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

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


Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.