From These Ashes

This fractious house rests
Torn by its own dissension
Decaying in its incompetence
Rotting on the vine
Peaceful but for the smell
Trapped in this living hell
Waiting for a cleansing fire
For a chance to finally burn
To purify its inhabitants
With so many smoking ashes
Cobbled together on the floor
Scattered by the incoming wind
Like we all used to be
When we thought that life was free
But it exacts a terrible toll
It crushes, then tries to mend
Gilded in the forge of apathy
Tempered like so much steel
Girding newly born beams
This phoenix rising clear
From the haphazard scattering
To hopefully begin again
When everything else is ending.