The Phoenix
Out of the pit full of sorrows now,
Finding myself still alive somehow,
Dancing my way around lakes full of fire,
I furrow my brow at the evil embarking
On quests to see everything good in me crash,
Like victims that fell into lakes full of ash.
Volcanic ascents through a darkening realm
Will sometimes burn up with my hand on the helm,
But never again will I lie down defeated
In ash-laden coffins especially for me,
Without rising again as the greater contender
And killing the urge to stay down and surrender.
My face full of bruises with blood streaking down
Might warrant a laugh or a nervous breakdown
From the foe, who may win a large battle or small,
But fails to see that I cannot be slain,
Because fire and ash are my wise older brothers
Who bless future wars when I fail in others.
Never can any invention created
By enemies whom I have so desecrated
Defile the burning inside of my soul
That carries me through every lake full of horror.
They’ll try every tactic their dirty hearts hold,
But despair and discouragement, silver and gold,
Are no match for my inner robust paradigm--
Because when I do fall, I rise up every time.
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