The cold hits so hard, and it strands you with your thoughts. The wind rips your heart. Your fire has gone out. Sleepless, you spent the night twisting the knife, and come sunrise, nothing shines. Reliving frame after frame, you give yourself to the pain, and concede that things will never be the same. It seems a hopeless fight against the dark that resides,
but it’s from ashes that we rise.
I know all too well of being trapped in this place. I can see it written so plainly on your face. You try to hide your eyes, but I’ve seen the same in mine. Grounded with this new-found fear of heights. It’s not a hopeless fight. Let phoenix take flight.
It’s from ashes that we rise.
So heal your wounds and mend your wings. Take to the sky again.
Reach out for a hand to hold that will lead you back to the world.
It only takes the slightest spark to reignite your heart. Let phoenix fly.
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