Poetry

Phoenix

When you stumble through the valley of gloom,
Unsure to put another foot before you,
When you don’t know if death will come to meet you soon,
Rise like the saplings in the burnt meadow do.

When the garden opens to a chasm in front,
And you slip and land into the darkness down,
When the end is the hunter and you are the hunt,
Even if you can’t get up, pick up your crown.

And even if death catches up with you,
And wraps you in its arms, never letting you go,
Burn and bleed in the flames that turn blue,
Then rise from your ashes again like the saplings in the charred meadow.

Rise like the Phoenix, a rebirth of the past,
From the ashes of your demise,
Make this the only resurrection, the last,
So lead life down your path, and rise.

Let your past burn along with your old soul,
Create a new person, to make things right,
You fell deep in turmoil, so now climb out of the hole,
Show the world your new spirit, and fight.

 

~Shreeya Sinha

New Delhi, India

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