The Pheonix

I climbed above the ashes

And saw the world a new,

coming from the fire

of an end I will pursue.

wings of curiosity

spread out into this myth

Carrying the existence

we tend to gamble with.

 because worth is never established

Before our treasures go

It seems all value has vanished

As our paths run begins to slow.

when familiar implications
lay upon our retina
we disbelieve the memories
in forms of staged dementia.
And then we're much to far
To ever come afoot
But we'll die and live again
Born from the same blackened soot.