Phoenix

This world is a mirage.

A boulevard of shattered dreams,

An avenue of broken hope,

And a graveyard of decrepit love.

In this disarray.

Devised with abhorrence and abomination:

They gambled away your possessions,

And in turn made you theirs.

They gave you armour to festoon your body

Obscuring the wounds they had rendered internally.

They told you that you were a glow stick

But they broke you more than what it takes to make you shine.

They destroyed what destroyed them

And ended up conflagrating this world.

They lashed out at darkness

And convinced you this is war.

You waged vendetta for years

Only to fight against your sovereignty.

They reigned over your decisions,

Fragmented your expositions.

You bore the injustice

And balanced the scales by your blinded body.

You’re playing with matches

And having a paper heart.

You’re setting yourself aflame,

To prove yourself to this world.

I feel like you’re far too much

And never quite enough.

You’re an amalgamation of what they want you to be

And the suppressed void of your own instincts

I feel the world you dwell in is only evanescent

Just like the paradigm of heaven they promised you.

You are the burnt child who dreads fire

Their meat, becoming your poison

You’re screaming paradoxes

To keep your nightmares caged.

You show up,

But do you even exist?

These cruel intentions

Concocted with sycophantic interjections

Make you numb

Make thou delirious.

But you must be born

Of ashes and of this horror.

You must be fashioned from this implacable existence,

You must rise from the shackles that deter you

For you are a phoenix,

And you must break flight.

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