A Leopard Can't Change His Spots

I have been in a coma

For three years.

Twelve seasons have come

And gone

While my heart

Has hidden away.

But now, the self-induced sleep

That has sheilded me

From the gravity of my grief

Has come to its end.

My heart is re-emerging.

The past, blotted out,

By amnesia,

Is but a foggy haze -

I hold only an image

Of someone

Who used to be me

But whom I no longer

Resemble

Everything feels

Routinely alien.

I no longer fit the mould.

I have been the subject of

Metamorphosis.

I am a lion that thinks

Herself a leopard.

I try to shed my spots

But they cling to me -

Out damned spot!

Out I say!

Lady Macbeth is loopy,

Lady Macbeth is loopy,

Lady, look, there's nothing there!

For you were guilty, yes,

But another took your stains,

For you were guilty, yes,

But you've been pardoned from your shame.

So, that hazy, spotty leopard

Can't be catching up with you, you see -
For, now you are a lion, yes,
That's who you're supposed to be.