Flight of the Phoenix



As, if by chance, I become a flaming sparkle that beckons and calls in the icy chill of the pre-dawn night.

"Arise you jaded champion of the cursed and the hated," Groaned the wrathful tempest, "It is within you to make happy dirges for kings and gentle diddies for cowboys."

What happens now is but straw to a camel. Devils and gods have spoken and our siren's song is played in deathly silence; no one will listen. No one will care. WTF people! I'd cry if I could feel, but my understanding for the masses is spent like pissing on sand, gaining no purchase upon the ground it softens.

"Arise you jaded mentor of youth and climb the jagged slopes of discontent and heartbreak." echoed the ancient stones, "we are rolling ever downwards and the abyss steadily approaches."

An unbreachable wall was built with the bones of the servile and the the courageously meek. Those who inherit nothing, not even wind, won't lament the pitiful edifice the strong and the brave wrought with their enterprising nature and their mediocre lust for trinkets and shiny objects. Brilliance will be rewarded with absolute dismal failure.

"Arise you jaded dreamer of far away nothings and soar into the infinite void," whispers the splashing seafoam, " You must face the present as it is; nothing more will do."

...and nothing less will be expected.