My Faith has withered, its leaves have all turned brown; The once luscious blooms turn dark, the edges start to crumble.
“I’m going through a hard time” has turned into “I have a hard life”. Nothing else can exist; Nothing will ever be enough to satisfy the black hole that resides in place of your soul.
A once deep adoration is now dead; The petals are being plucked and only the rotten stem remains.
I have no trust, no faith,
But I am free.
I will spread my wings of fiery conviction; My faith is now in myself: A lonely lotus with he frog prince, a Phoenix with her fiery spirit.
I am the Autumnal Phoenix.