Metamorphosis
A flower made of fire
Was consumed by fear
And went up in smoke.
"Kick down the walls,
Open the window,
Let the light shine in.
Embrace the way your soul repeats,
'You are unique.'"
A chrysalis has opened to the scent of petrichor,
Metamorphosis complete;
Free from the cycle, but not too far out the door.
The open air enchanting,
The sky is calling,
The galaxy awaits my flight.
This poem is about:
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: