Pacing through an all-beloved forest,
rendered nonplussed by my failure to recognise its beauty,
I wandered through the labyrinth in perplexity,
until I stumbled upon this creature.
It was neither pretty nor ugly,
It was neither perfect nor imperfect,
It was either a daydream craft or a beast.
I had apparently stumbled upon my reflection.
Transfixed by this scaringly solemn discovery,
fixated on how such a thing could be,
my mind became dazzled by an immeasurable plethora of fragments of images,
trying to solve the mysterious puzzle of this being.
It had a structure my great mind could not quite fathom.
Its eyes spoke volumes to me that resonated with my own being.
It had a glaringly frightened posture, that felt welcoming to me.
And so I found myself dissolved in the science of this creature.
Then suddenly it rose, fuming, as fiery as Hell flames,
I felt as though it broke out in despair,
enraged by the presence of a human, me.
And that amplified the sense of reflection I received from the creature.
The single thing which restricted me from attempting a propitiation,
was the relatability of this creature.
Our connection, the preternatural similarities we bore,
they far outweighed our visible differences.
Empathy descended upon me.
It taught me to leave the creature be,
because I shared its pure abhorrence of the human being.
So I left it be
and ventured back into my world,
a world stained by the existence of 8 billion humans.
Usual loathing proceeded this return,
and I held my own hand in consolation and anguish.