Obsidian Phoenix

Scorched

and

blackened,

the flames

of being

and circumstance

have charred me whole -

heart, body, and soul -

until all that remains

is a mound of ashes.

Temptation lies

in the form of release,

a longing to just let the wind

carry the cinders away,

fragments flying free

to go where

and as they please,

no cares or worries

grounding the me debris.

But

instead,

I choose

to rise,

to try and reform

the deadened dust,

to fuel the fire

that burned inside before,

creating a renewing flow

of life,

lava that I can shape,

molding it into

volcanic glass,

and emerge

with stronger wings,

sharp,

but beautiful,

unsteady,

but ready

to

soar.