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 pin you down
For you are a phoenix,
And you must break flight.