A Symphony of Everything

The light calls me, yet so does the dark

A screeching crow, or a singing lark

Am I belladonna, so dangerous with power?

Or am I baby’s breath, a simple lovely flower?

The smell of mugwort fills my lungs, yet so does vanilla

The name in which I come by, is it Mary or Drusilla?

I wear my heart upon my sleeve, yet keep it in a cage

Locked amongst passion and its partner rage

You see for my suit of skin

Light or dark to different eyes

But never does anyone see the symphony of everything inside