Descent and ascent

Standing tall, beaming with pride, finally clean from this world’s poison. I reached for the skies with no need to hide, thanking God for the blessed horizon. What bliss when the air was pristine. On cloud nine, there was no smoke in sight. For the first time since I was thirteen, Blue skies mended ashy blight. A storm came unprovoked, hurling me down below. Blood spilled; bedrock soaked. There was nowhere else to go. A haunting sight, filled with wrath. So be it, it’s not a crime. Standing once again on this path, I have no choice but to climb. SMJ