Phoenix

     

Phoenix

Phoenix

 

Out of the darkness of ignorance
I decided to climb on a mountain
Through the dark mist raised from unseen lies
And the heavy outburst of hate.
I was only a small tied up worm
Thunderstorms of voices made fun of me
Called me betrayer and traitor at least…
I drag on the long way up to the top
Where I found a bright shining light
I had found the homeland of writers
Found freedom and courage
Of my convictions of poetic license
At last.

Recognizing my final calling
I built my house right up there
With thick walls made out of the very resistance
From which each upright author is born.
Each window was as clear as the sight of all truth
My roof a shield against injustice.
In front of the chimney out of scorched earth
Here I started to write my book
Of never-ending chapters- so wide was my look
On freedom and courage
of my convictions of poetic license
At last.

I wrote on heart, soul and pain of all mankind
I wrote about “Who”, “Where”, “What”, “How”, Why”
And knew I had found my very own language
Which would never be copied until the end of all time
I used my ears, eyes, nose, mouth and soul
My head, my dreams and my thoughts
A voice unique as in further times each of my single words
Forever I will be identified
By the fingerprints of my script...
Out of freedom and courage
Of my convictions of poetic license
At last.

I was a pink sweet little baby once
When years ago I was born
I hated all the “Black” and “Brown”
And fought it by any of my words
My ink was as “Red” as the blood I had seen
In each single night, in every dream
Each chapter now only ends with three points
And will not be finished until the day
When all injustice will be erased
My book will finally be finished the very day
When my last breath the final point will set
Hoping somewhere a small tied up worm
Like myself will rise out of the masses
As an author like a “Phoenix” reborn.
With the freedom and courage
Of my convictions of poetic license
At last.

 

©denise-a. langner-urso