Bird Of Fire

A phoenix birthed from a charred heart
From the skies it flew down to play a part

It tought resilience through its choicest tears
Fanned the flames away off of all your fears

The orange wings spread in distance wide
Embracing the burnt-heart within it’s hyde

A life filled with perpetual neo-negativity
Will once again be cleansed with tenacity

A burning fire within fluctuates between strong and weak
A perseverance keeps resuscitating itself in a life that’s bleak

The Phoenix sheds it’s tears to foster this heart’s raging flame
The rejuvenated soul resumes to take part in your frivolous game

In stillness
In calmness
The heart beats again

The crucible of pain will always forge the strongest soul

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The Single Drink

As I sit alone at dusk and have my first
A black liquid to quench my life’s thirst

I recall an existence filled with nothing but misanthropic void
An incomprehensible scribe to my future husband or bride

Are you now going to get lynched for swinging both ways?
I seem to care eitherway, since existence is a hypocritical haze

Your sexuality has never mattered to my wayward mind for it’s a bore
A formidable intellectual companion is all I have craved for forever more

In a pure relentless pursuit towards a peaceful vision of all my lives
A constant step forward away from all your dripping distrust-laden knives

Dive deep into the first black-red drink of many
A calculative future strategy with dread, uncanny

Behind the first now parched awaits a secondance
Ready to soothe this shoulder of absolute dependence

A welcome calm over the languid flames of my distant detached heart and soul
An Armenian pianist now sings blissfully into the ears of this abandoned black foal

When forever is to be continuous somehow
Eternity is a long time away from until now

As I sit alone late night and down this cure worthy single drink
I teeter and cross the edge of an elusive Niravana’s brink

Tried and pre-tested acceptable methods of being a part
Now prove false under the guidance of your rotten cart

Are you really listening to me my dear loving God
Probably not, you pure imaginary friend of a fraud

I now seek to liberate myself from all your predictable grids
To down this drink and try my best to foresee my life’s skids

As I share bits and pieces from my life’s cup
I keep expecting one of you shits to stand up

Only to be left without any answer
Happiness seems to be life’s cancer

The pursuit of which constantly results in an ever-rain upon your farm
I already know you wish to be set free from all of experience’s harm

Always level with the precious offsprings that you have hurled
Else as misfits they shall wreck havoc upon this superficial world

Await for my shit allegorically misjudged perfect painting – Freely
I now have to leave because I hear the Moonwolf – Seemingly

When

When the still waters

Conspire against the tides

When the snow hustlers

Pause to see epic landslides

When an infinite universe

Rumbles it’s song two-pronged

When the polar converse

Undertakes a silence prolonged

True venture is chaotic

Infinite adventures erotic

A deathly communion orgasmic

Degeneration of the cytoplasmic

A frantic climb done over a dune

Witness a serene vision of Lune

Caught in a search for the elusive Light

The end of the tunnel approaches – Bright

An incredible find

Forever a subdued mind

A voice hoarse from shouting

A rebel seeing and screaming