Burning Myth

The phoenix

Golden bird of myth

How it would burn and be reborn

Out of it’s ashes it would rise

Stronger, better, more radiant.

The flaming bird whose death was in it’s own flames.

So i doused myself in flammable liquid

Lit a match and went up in flames

In a moment I couldn’t feel a thing;

The solution to my pain was complete.

I wanted to be reborn,

I wanted to forget;

I wanted a new me.

So I took form from my ashes

And anew I was born

But wait, what’s this i feel?

Like a thunder bolt, the rush had come

I felt it all like a plague

It didn’t work,

At least not for long enough.

I was born again,

But the demons too, were back again.

Maybe the phoenix isn’t so magical afterall,

Maybe i sought the impossible afterall,

But for a brief moment there…

I was at peace,

So i kept burning up

I became my myth.

Till my ashes no longer had color

And all that was left,

The color of grey black ash.


Author: kennievevah

the ever learning, ever growing artist of the arts

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s