The Black Tipped Spider Orchid

As a spider I hide,

Running ’til the sound of death fades.

Now I take shelter in the petals who yearn for the sun.

In the flower, everything but nothing like myself.

As flora I hide in simple light.

In the Black Tipped Spider Orchid I hide.

Petals, now mine, start stretching and yearning for the sun.

Sunlight meets my petals then bounces off me.

Still my perals stay tipped endlessly.

For the sound of death is far away, now my petals may yearn and stretch while finally,

I may rest.