I've been living as a flame without oxygen, warmth and fury underneath the skin without a means to breathe.
Attached to that which gives me life,
or at least the illusion of it.
Fire needs fuel
A spark remains
This world is cruel.
Oh please explain
Why do I feel my spirit growing weaker every day?

The energy from within is not what it used to be,
and I am the only one to blame.
Relying on fleeting sustenance
while the true hunger
wears and tears
my cares and prayers
making me think I'm beyond repair.
I've been searching for nourishment in all the wrong places,
while my soul accepts defeat
and my embers all deplete.

Yet...
that voice has never silenced.
"It's not too late to change.
It's never too late to change.
Stop your life and rearrange,
the puzzle of existence that seems so concrete."

If my essence is fire,
then let it become
Unbound.
Untethered.
Expound.
Unweathered.
Give me strength to burn away the artificial reality I have created;
become a creature beyond reason.
**A dying phoenix on a path to be reborn.