When a Phoenix Is Born
I dare you to steal from the gods.
[I heard a story once,
a man chained to a mountain
for he dared to steal from the Gods.
What he stole was
that singing voice in your head,
that makes your legs move,
your muscles vibrate.
What he stole was a chorus of flames,
dancing, lethal.
They made the soil fertile,
the legs stronger
the muscles vibrate.
We were given the fire
so that we could ingest
Its breath,
You are the flame
that Prometheus stole from the Gods]
I am not the missing tooth
on Luck’s shiny smile
I am Icarus with stronger wings
they are not made of wax
they’re made of steel,
that the sun can not destroy.
I packed my breath
and felt it on my back.
I don’t walk,
I feel the ground under my feet.
I win even when i lose,
‘cause i know that losing gives me time
to fix my wings and fly higher.
Higher.
I will skin the sun
and wear its aura.
I know who i am.
‘Cause I shook Luck’s hand,
And Luck smiled.
‘Cause we all are joyful burning souls.
I belong.
I belong to the sweat on my teammates’ lucky shirts,
to their winning toothy smiles,
to all the hours spent
trying to learn how to feel the ground under my feet
We are all phoenixes.
We burn,
and we wait to be born again.
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