The stillness of your silent waters

I quite miss the uncertainty
of the roaring gales of fire
that were once the heart of this world...

For in those moments of uncertainty
imagination was as ripe as a sweet melon
whose juices flowed freely for all.

Yet I find myself quite uncertain
of the many roads to adventure
as they seem to leave me charred...

How could it be
that once I was as innocent
as the child that grew in my womb

Yet today I find scars in the pages
torn from the book of my soul
the many un-uttered phrases

Which may have saved my soul.

Indeed it was in those pages
that I found solace
I found the passions of life

In the darkest caves of my being
there I found my true power
the light within the darkness.

Still I feel as though somehow
with one subtle glimpse perhaps,
I could reignite that fire

Burning away all that was sweet

Giving rise to a phoenix
an array of delirious hazy blooms
of sparkling passion.

I am the phoenix, yet...
I find my wings to heavy to bare
the ashes hold us down

The fire consumes all mearth