Cocooned in a chrysalis of pain,
White gown bears a bloody stain,
The flower given for us to care
Petals wither, remain threadbare.
Bask in bitterness,
Numb in business.
Cocooned is but apparent death,
Life sustained from blood and breath,
The flower dies but a bulb remains,
Called forth again with sun and rain.
Closed to the healing,
Deaf to the calling.
One day, chrysalis will crack,
Emerging beauty from fragile sack.
Wounds inflicted from closest kin,
Now fissures where love seeps within.
Love's strange path,
The kiss of death and wrath.
Chrysalis crucifix unfurl the wings,
Beautiful One: sing, sing sing,
Till wounded hearts mend and forget,
To hate as a new dawn does beget,
Sweet, sweet balm,
From open, pierced palm.
World without end.
____
Another refitted poem...I'll have to think if it works any better than the original.
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