RISEN

Rising from the muck,
fog ascending,
He stands tall,
finally surpassing the ultimate heights.

Gazing below to the incompetent structures,
failing in their upward climb,
he lauds it over the skyline
he has become a part of.

Silhouetted,
he celebrates his victory
over the mundane,
his darkness embellished by the pink.

He peers into the bowels of oblivion below,
savoring his moment of glory.
When shall he rise again to these heights?
Alas, he must return to the sludge.

He will stay as long as the world allows,
as long as he is triumphant.
As long as his silhouette is visible to the world
questioning his sanity.

But who are the truly insane?
Those in the trenches who
fear their rise and huddle in
the security of darkness?

RISEN

Let him be.
Let him rejoice.
Let him exalt.
Let him rise.