When my outer skin will peel
Emergence into a waiting place
In metamorphosis I patiently pose
Dreaming of when it begins
The masses have seen me
But do not know me
I was the visitor who
Being in disguise
Only recognizable by my eyes
That nobody bothered to look into
Or glanced into my iris
Therefore they only know the old skin
Not being able to find my heart
Walking amongst them observing
Those who pretend to be
Leading the blind to hilltops
Enticing them with vain words
Phrases that are not their own
It invades them clear down
To the marrow in their bone
As I emit radiance that transcends
Uplifted as a Phoenix that rises
From ashes where my old skin resides
~Moses~
© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
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