Metamorphosis - Erik Vincenti Zakhia - Watercolor Painting

In my half-awake fingers

the shapeless starts

taking form


What had been a dormant river of clay

suddenly stirs

opening an eye


One part of it melts becoming a milky fire

while the rest is still rigidly trapped

among strata of rocks


The dragon has not yet broken

through the undergrounds of your heart

but it’s slowly coming to life

rumbling louder

and louder


Listen to this beating melody

and prepare to be swept away

from the place where you firmly stand


The answer to all our ailments

is not in bloodsheds and confrontations

and confronting the dragon won’t bring you any good

as he’ll simply trample you until you understand

until you understand why his body is on fire

until you understand how profound is his wound

and how hurt he is

how dire is his need to be loved

to be gently taken care of

with nimble hands exploring the furrows

where these wounds are hidden

mending them


This dragon shouts and spits fire

but all his want truly

is to be hugged between your arms

and hug you too

and feel you have truly returned to him

truly returned to yourself

becoming one with you

so great the harmony between your thoughts and your hearts will be

as he had once dreamed

before being born to light

a dream so distant he barely remembers

except that you accepted him in all his ugliness, in all his weakness

and embraced him on your chest

and this embrace was full and complete

if the dragon was ever to live

this embrace was the only thing he wished for

and all his life he would rummage and rampage

looking among the rubbles for the memory

of this love he had once felt


Pardon this dragon for his brutality

he had never meant any harm

and he was driven by his pains

blinded by this raging force he felt within his limbs

If he had instead been a little boy

he would have hidden behind the hills in the forest

out of fear to see you, to be rejected and told to go away

no that thought would have been painful beyond words

he’d have preferred to quietly dream of you

in the quietness of trees and crackling branches and falling leaves


But he was born a dragon and although the arrows you fired at him hurt him

they drove him only madder, only more desperate, only more daring

to obtain what he wanted, he needed, he couldn’t live without

An ugly creature who frightened everyone he was

a creature that couldn’t be truly domesticated

a thirst for water that never could be quenched

except by your hands and your words and your caresses

when you first looked at him with your profound gaze

for the first time he felt truly accepted, truly loved

for a very short time that lasted forever

he was loved, content, humbled

so humbled that all his wish was to hold your hand and shed some tears

he the armored dragon unveiling his tender heart

that beats under layer upon layer of hardened clay


You can continue to fight this dragon

and be in misery together with him

feeling his despair, sharing your pain

You can also press your fingers on the hardened clay

and the clay will melt and let your fingers through

until you bring back the light to his heart

and he metamorphoses in the one

you had always dreamed


About Erik Vincenti Zakhia

Dear all, I will share with you many of my poems, short stories, drawings and paintings telling of my journey of self-discovery and my reflections about life, love, art, spirituality, sexuality, kundalini rise, and twin flames. They all fall within the realm of Hazen. May you have an inspiring visit!


  1. Wow, beautiful to read here in the Portuguese sun


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