Phoenix

He swims in rivers of doubt,

but he is afraid

that once he drowns, he will like it.



He spends his days paving his

lungs with that which temporarily dissolves his troubles.

He clings to these moments, he lives for them.

In these moments he finds a pseudo-peace,

a peace he accepts as such.



"A cynical kind of madness.", he chuckles.



Yet he weaves through the cynicism

with a hope that between those ashes

he will rise from his own kind of dead.



But still he remains

waiting...