Of Insect and Allegory

Awake i lie and stare towards the crack
Just like the patient spider crafts his deadly chord;
And watching, waiting for a sign of life, I dream of candour and of just
rewards.
Whilst in the lower chambers, sister plays a mournful dirge, of solitude and
strife.
Confusion plagues my every thought of brighter times:
At one with my community — a better life.
Look to the clock-What time is it now? …It seems I cannot move
Confined to these four walls… Or is it five?
The falsehoods that these eyes do contrive.
«Gregor…Gregor Samsa…»
Where once were hands, now seems unto me
To have turned to something sinister- I cannot tell.
The shape of a man and yet this shadow feels so wrong
I draw the latch, this room becomes my private hell.
The mirrors now seem to play cruel tricks
And laugh from darkened corners at this fearful plague.
This growing inner turmoil this disease inflicts
This rotting carapace, mortality decayed.
My destiny Or is it doom? I hear the voices: family
They call each one, my name to me:
.They gather and require…
…My presence now… outside this room…
…But when I try to speak… the words
…Of comfort to their nervous fears…
…I find I cannot make a sound…
To drive away the demons I reach toward my inner strength
And yet all can I muster are vile contortions of the throat.
I pray this is just a dream and subject to the kvetch’s gloat
«Als Gregor Samsa eines Morgens aus unruhigen Träumen erwachte,
Fand er sich in seinem Bett zu einem ungeheueren Ungeziefer verwandelt.».
I draw back the latch and I see before me — The horror on the faces of my kin
They know me no more — As I slip to the floor
And the final transformation now begins.
These darkling days, and the changing of ways
With the rising of oceans unclean:
We all from birth, to the ends of the earth are but wheels in this global
machine.
Thy know me no more — As I slip to the floor
And the final transformation now begins.
These darkling days, and the changing of ways
With the rising of oceans unclean.