Into the flames of self-disgust and anguish.
Crashing, I fell, engulfed by raging fire.
Burning alive, in this cruel hell, I languish.
Lit by my metaphoric funeral pyre.
What is my crime, the cause of my depression.
Is it the wasted life I could not live.
Is it the narcissistic self-obsession.
That I once found so easy to forgive.
Slowly, I claw my way back into reason.
Softly I breathe a shallow breath of calm.
Lifting my eyes, I glimpse a change of season.
Sunlight and fire conspire to keep me warm.
Transformed, I rise on golden wings of parchment.
Out of these flames which signify rebirth.
Melting away my sense of disenchantment.
Then, like the mythic phoenix, come to earth.