Cocoon.

This body will always truly cocoon,
A frightful thought for some, too soon?
Frightful to those who can’t accept.
The atom lingers, intercept.
As some would call it snotty,
to believe in such a body.
The wings of a star will surely bloom,
a being it may, my lonely tomb.
This womb of young happy life,
the universe I’ve cured into a wife.
Lonely, yet subtle within this tune,
this body will always truly cocoon.
I’ve made it so from foe to crow,
your heightened senses do not know,
the hurt and dirt in which we’ll pry
open, in, our wings will fly.
Have you been believing, Sir?
What I have learned is true, is pure.
What I have learned is faithfully this,
that what I’ve conjured is true, true bliss.
No ignorance here it’s right, it’s right!
To believe in me, to believe in sight.
Lovely, yet humble within this wound
This body will always truly cocoon.

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