We rise not like smoke from the flame to demonstrate the Law of Conservation of Energy -matter shifting forms- Violent change followed by heavenward ascension.
We rise not like the phoenix from the ashes. No glorious re-emergence from the ruined form of what came before. No rebirth as the middle stage of an endless cycle.
Instead we rise like an orchid, blooming, up from the shitheap. We reach for the sun even while our roots sink deep into the filth.
This chain was my home. This chain is my home. This chain will not always be my home.
I’ve seen a hundred things stranger than a ship that steers itself.