The snake's skin that once kept winter out
will choke it in spring if never shed.
The armor forged for yesterday's war;
becomes a cage, turns to living dread.
A mind that nails itself to stone,
afraid to loosen, bend, or learn,
mistakes a prison for a throne
and calls it truth at every turn.
To live is not to stay the same,
but leave old certainties behind:
to risk the loss of name and frame,
and molt toward a wider mind.
So let the brittle shell be gone.
Let yesterday fall, scale by scale.
Only what changes carries on;
only what yields will not go stale.
Apr 1
Apr 1, 2026 at 4:19 PM UTC
The snake's skin that once kept winter out
will choke it in spring if never shed.
The armor forged for yesterday's war;
becomes a cage, turns to living dread.
A mind that nails itself to stone,
afraid to loosen, bend, or learn,
mistakes a prison for a throne
and calls it truth at every turn.
To live is not to stay the same,
but leave old certainties behind:
to risk the loss of name and frame,
and molt toward a wider mind.
So let the brittle shell be gone.
Let yesterday fall, scale by scale.
Only what changes carries on;
only what yields will not go stale.
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