Falling. It happens.
There is a golden rope dangling beside us.
Reaching for it, it disintegrates, only one can grab it.
Security, Safety, Sanctuary.
is what awaits high up.

Risk, Danger, Uncertainty.
is what awaits below.
I would rather,
take a chance than lose a friend.
Take the low road.
The highway to hell.
But, would you?

The hole we are falling into is hollow,
like my heart used to be.
The mask and the heart.
The shield and the sword.
One protects the other,
the other reciprocates.
Symbiotic.

The cocoon, has opened.
I feel different.
I am different.
But am i a butterfly or a moth?
Most importantly,
am i still in another cocoon?
Trapped...