The caterpillar thinks that life is done,

With sorrow he does forge his final shell,

Succumbing to his prison with no sun,

Resigned he slowly paves his road to hell.

~

He waits and wonders lonely in the dark,

The silence interminable wears on,

The view ahead is dim and bleak and stark,

And soon his future dreams will all be gone

~

He yearns for it to end but fights the urge,

A tiny speck of light still hopes for more,

And then victorious she does emerge,

More lovely than she ever was before,

~

She’s made it past the asking how and why,

And now it’s time to spread her wings and fly.