For years,they fed me cruel words and poisioned my mind. I got drunk on oceans and the skies. Only to realise,they weren't enough to dilute the poison inside. I felt its time i put the lights out. Before i could gather tools,my skin cracked open. Oozing horrors of time onto my skin. And slowly the skin started melting. I felt its time. But i woke up,with a new skin,but the same old feeling. I've been switching skins for years now,but i wake up,with not a scratch on the skin but the same wounds and thoughts somehow,on the soul.I know now,every move and pattern,so i dodge every bullet sent my way. But what about the unknown patterns? Now that i know every wound would be a scar on the soul,and i cant be killed. I had to find a way to end this cycle. So through books i took a stroll. Found nothing but creature, who was more like me, than itself,a pheonix. Maybe pheonix wasn't a mythical bird,but named after one of us,who burned from the inside till there was nothing but ashes,and rose again from its ashes. And it felt like my tale of destruction and reconstruction.
Soul is eternal they said,so are the scars i guess. Does this mean i am stuck in the cycle of dressing and undressing for eternity? Now that I can't be killed,how do i put an end to this suffering? How many deaths and rebirths do i have to bear? I guess i'll never know,till i walk over to the other end. But atleast now i know it passes you by,at the streets,book stores and coffee tables. And that the pheonix is just another human.
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