Am I the Clam?

Invisible existence
Buried in muck
Paralyzed, constricted
Dark, Heavy and Stuck

Unaware the intentions
Of a predator hov’ring above
Mistaking attention
And grandeur for love

Oh, to be noticed
Plucked from that muck
A moment of soaring
High, Free, and Unstuck

Chosen and Risen
Every synapse engaged
The chooser flies higher
Turbulent, rough and enraged

With a savage ejection
A perilous drop
Confused and Disoriented
A jagged outcrop

That sickening sound
Breaking, Shattering, CRACK
Consumed by another
Their final attack

Indeed, I was
With the chooser convolved
I was the clam
Now, I have evolved