A Caterpillar is he who stumbles into that sanctuary, to be
molded and mended while reason sleeps, and awake to find
himself different, almost a stranger to he who first
entered

Beauty is now his calling and his previouse countenance
becomes, slowly but surely, insignificant. For he is a
creature of divine spirit now, transformed not by holy glory
but by self motivation. Saved and repented of his ugly past

Angles wings he bears. He flutters here and there. He takes
his place rightfully by the side of the beautiful, those who
would once ridicule but now spread their golden love and
attention. He flew carelessly around, superior to the rest
who inhabit his blissfull existance...Only to be snatched up
and eaten by an abominable frog