The truth set me free along tome ago.
A lightness of mind like vapor from a Tennessee still
nestled way back in the Blue Kentucky hills.

Carefree as a bird swiftly winging  to buckshot every feather in place.
The song of my nature driving me forward. To be or not.
Easier to forward than crash into false recollections.
Like a roaring inferno set upon the land. Reckless.

A mind too lazy to conjure in webs of reckless  fantasy. Encased with  surety.
A perch above the turmoil where the view is forever and blue.
Yes there is a price however. The winged truth is easy target for the hunter.

He lies in the brush well concealed and leads the mark by a hair.
Placing projectiles in the way of surety with devastating precision.
Truth falls to earth in a death spiral ****** feathers waft behind.
Fire and destruction. Fire and resurrection. Fire at will.

The heady substance is a snare.
a small price to pay. The Phoenix will rise  however.

The outcome will replay.
The Phoenix will rise yet still. Stubborn in his way.
Set free to soar and fall to ground
Set free to soar.
Set free.