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.