Hast I lost my eyes, trapped in ceaseless times
Where bleak clouds soar the skies and block my mind?
From these clouds does rain fall; acidic crimes
Destroy the land where wand’ring hearts walk blind.
The grass is burned. Oh, fire’s rage dries the path.
The stones do hide; no pebbles near as guides.
Unable to succeed. What bitter wraths
Holds hostage like such callous being’s pride.
My futile heart is not essential; it
Collects dust like forgotten toys so old.
Take it from me and store it in a pit.
Yes, ample deep where bones do chat with mold.
In time this organ shall be free to roam.
This stubborn life (a Phoenix) will go home.