The Ruination of the Guardian

A poem using fancy words because sometimes I think I'm cool...

The Ruination of the Guardian

In the blithe way of hedonism

I found myself lost.

To the epicurean wolves,

I had myself tossed.

I plummeted to the bottom,

Descended as though on high. 

And like the charred plumage of the phoenix,

Found my rebirth nigh.

The existential bells,

Rang with resonant delight.

And from the kiss of death,

I felt myself take flight.

The sky was such a sight to see,

A perfect locus coeruleus.

Then storm clouds trundled in,

The sound of them quite dubious.

Darkness flooded the perfect sky,

With my brand new wings I stumbled.

Lightning cracked the dark gray sky,

And to the ground I tumbled.

Satire and sarcasm bristled,

In the hearts of men all around.

Sadness and sorrow,

Greeted me on the ground.

Mock heroic actions,

Lampooning left and right.

Depression coiled deep, 

Anfractuous in might.

Without acts of selflessness,

I feared my faith would falter,

Vicious words and unkind thoughts,

Worshiped on an altar.

Bandaging my wings,

I lifted from the floor.

And flew into the sky,

To live forever more.