My wings of fire blazing against the punishment of hail and thunder.
I wouldn’t stop;
Couldn’t stop;
Not until the eternal heat warmed my frozen core.
But my golden feathers were ripped away,
My eyes blistered from bitter wind,
My airborn body mercilessly beaten by brutal storms.
I fell to earth,
A limp shell of former ambition,
Unable to save myself
From the downward spiral.
I plummeted to earth,
My broken body
exploding in billows of ash,
And scattered
By the currents of the furious gale.
But it was then that my inner fire sparked,
Nursed by the breath of a summer storm,
And raised by its voltaic charge.
A new flame was born, and blazed anew,
Fueled by unforgotten dreams.
My former grave was scarred
By the fire of unfurled wings,
And my nest of embers was swept away
By the insatiable tempest
In my heart and on my skin.
Electric clouds hid the sun’s brilliance,
But I trusted in Her promised light.
With a song of courage I again took flight.
Each day must be won,
Even if the storm once felt victory.
I found strength not in misguided ambition,
But in a vital need to feel again.
I settled not for the storm’s abuse,
But on the warmth of the sun
On my starved heart,
Wherever it may hide.
