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The Blooming After Fire
I was ashes in the wind,
A whisper lost beneath the skin.
Every echo, every cry,
Was just the sound of who’d I been.
The night was long, the flame was wild,
But through the smoke, I found my smile.
And in the ruin of my name,
A seed began to spark again.
Now the silence starts to sing,
The air is gold beneath my wings.
The ground remembers every tear,
And turns it into bloom this year.
I am the blooming after fire,
Born from dust, from old desire.
Every scar’s a shining wire,
Carrying light through broken choirs.
I am the blooming after fire —
A song the night could not expire.
I danced with fear, I slept with pain,
Till thunder washed me clean again.
The storm has left its mark in stone,
But I have never been alone.
The stars are roots beneath the sky,
They grow through me, they testify.
That even burned, the forest breathes,
And beauty waits beneath the leaves.
Now the silence starts to sing,
The wind returns with silver rings.
And in my chest, the embers rise,
To paint the dark with fireflies.
I am the blooming after fire,
Born from dust, from old desire.
Every scar’s a shining wire,
Carrying light through broken choirs.
I am the blooming after fire —
A song the night could not expire.
Let the ashes fall like snow,
Cover what I used to know.
From the ground where sorrow lay,
A thousand suns are on their way.
I am the blooming after fire,
My heart a field, my soul a choir.
From pain I built a new empire,
And crowned the dawn my only pyre.
I am the blooming after fire —
The world reborn, the sky much higher.