A compulsory ritual, this has become.
I feel undone.
My circuitous trial, unbearably so,
is burdensome.
Unconscious, I shift and shake with time.
Imposed on me, this cycle;
Curse-ed repetition,
my nest rebuilt,
just to perish within it.
With mighty efforts to abstain,
I fall again.
Ashes mark my crown, my breast;
confound my eyes.
No wing could soar, nor feather rise,
when smothered in the dust of my delusions.
Yet bravely now, I try,
with awful cry!
I stretch in search of light.
My head thrown back,
against the black,
fire-eyes lend truth to lies.
This phoenix, doomed to die,
in blazing pain,
still suffering, thrashing;
lost effort fans the flames.
Succumb not to my pyre!
To die again and serve as nothing;
Wild bird, do not surrender!
must break to free,
than tortured be,
hopelessly torn assunder.
From ash again,
beloved friend
perpetual I rise.
Such fragile thing,
need take to wing,
Fire-Bird so soon to die.
I chafe and writhe against the confines of my circle.
how did that make you feel?
Comments
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This is amazing...Starting with the ashes, the the passion to live and fight against the cycle, and ending, once again, in ashes. I love the way you expressed this, the word choice and placement is brilliant.
I love the 3rd and 4th stanzas. And the line "Fire-eyes lend truth to lies" the truth about how, when you know its all going to end, everything seems so clear and lit in an almost dramatic way.
Anyway, gorgeous write! Thank you for letting me read it!
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I blush
I always look forward to your impressions of what i write. I really appreciate it! Lov' ya'!
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