Memory Fragments: Probity

Ashen Phoenix

Still, it bugs me. Now that I know, it still bugs me. The truth of a missing link
To whomever still pertains, the piece of my memory, a crow shall follow
That shadowy, ruthless, and past incarnation I somehow still think
What worms shall he feed to a phoenix like me, I shall swallow

And even still, what remains of the poisonous feast is not waste
But a marvel of grotesque in which a lonely beauty can be found
My second chance at life for digging myself out of the grave I have faced
What error I am yet to commit, I shall overcome it with a mind most sound

And yet, why do I still hear the caws and shrieks? Why is there blood in the claws and talons?
My own blood. I have spilled countless liters of it, and yet, I still bleed more
Does my need for everlasting peace weight more than my spilled gallons?
Or does my second chance crave a fight of guts and gore?

Regardless, I am a new man. Nothing more than balance, as it should be
What bad still harbors within, I have my comrades and family to relay upon
What good is to come, from problems solved I shall see it free
For I am not a crow anymore. Of my own mind, I am not a pawn

Nevertheless, of negligence towards myself or the beating of my heart, I am happy
What evil lurks that calls itself my past master, I shall meet it as a student once again
But now, I will beat it and become the new master. With my brains, I shall make it snappy
For I am a new breed of bird. Flying free and inextinguishable under darkness's rain

How I wish all of you could see me now. Oh how I wish it so
What marvels did the world unearth before my revelation, I cherish both good and bad
What new chapters are still unwritten for me to follow, many a chance to grow
Still, it bugs me. I have all, and yet, something is missing that I wish I had

But what could it possibly be? What could a soul like mine ever wish for?
Perhaps it is not something new, but old? Something it forgot and died?
What rebirth can it have? Like a phoenix, its own ashes from a time of yore
Patched up, it wants to be anew and not the same old soul that cried

But, is it better for me to make it anew? Or do I keep the scars of remembrance?
What if I reset back to how I was? Reincarnated in dusk's black instead of dawn's white
A pitch-black crow to a phoenix, covered in his own ashes, makes for a stark resemblance
I am afraid, I must admit. Of what terrors are for me to judge and write

What mighty flame can cleanse this unwritten pages without burning them down?
What skin do I wear to protect me from the fires? The phoenix is not inmune to other's ignis
This troubles my mind and heart both, and yet, I feel a sense of carefreeness all around
If I am to truly be the ashen phoenix, I must mantle myself with ashes of darkness's bigness

No mystery nor problem shall go unsolved. For I shut doubt inside my mind and heart
With friends and comrades alike, a phoenix glows even if covered by an ashen veil
Still, where should I start? From what journey did I depart? What life is mine to take part?
More lives lie before me, as the ashen phoenix, my flare guides them out of a dark tale