I Know Why the Burning Bird Screams

I...I try climbing to the top. Carrying the highest of virtues. But my ego pulls me down. I want love. I want to love. I can’t choose to be loved. I am made from love. Love pulls the best of me by my bootstraps.

I...I reach the brim. Only to be pulled down by the worst. The highest of virtues finds itself below the lowest of immoral characters. Hate is priceless when it is my only possession. Fear is fuel when it is moving me somewhere. Anywhere from no where. The bucket is purgatory and I am spinning in circles. 

I...I try...to try again. But instead I allow my malevolence to capture the moral high ground. It’s nothing but a landfill. And only takes one shake to see where I really stand. 

I am not talented enough to be a wall crawler. Relying on my inner genius to rebuild the ladder of trust. Trust in others. Trust from others. Trust within myself. I want to believe. I start to believe. Until uncontrollable events kick the bucket. 

Death. Economic depression. The clouds of hate raining down. Watering my resentment. I cut it all down. I cut myself down to size. And ignite the bucket. So the worst in me can’t thrive - and the best will have to climb to survive. 

Clawing from the flames of destruction to the light of potential. Afraid of heights are these crabs in a bucket of potential. Already in a potent hell. Potentially he will? My will is all I got. What is the hero willing to sacrifice to make it to the top?

Let it go. The dead weight of the past. Don’t settle for a comfortable altitude. Stop pulling down an unrealized self. This is the last summit. Cliff hanging by a thread. As I get older it only gets harder to dig deeper into the fiery can.

So I give up my vices before the emergence of ashes. I don’t choose to drown out the inferno with alcohol bottles. Better to be embraced by the wings of fury. Because lift off is from ground zero.

I now know why the burning bird screams...