Life is a trail of flames.
My spirit, which is fire itself,
walks the emblazoned path.
Yet if upon the wrong coals
my visage should tread,
then my sole shall be burnt
and my pride shaken.
But crying is forbidden,
for pride never dies.
And somewhere along my journey
the weight of my body
will turn to ash.
And at last I will fly,
on pheonix wings,
to the clouds above,
where all my wounds will heal
and I will be nothing.
Nothing more than fire.
Which is only light and air.
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