Sunday, June 17, 2012

Phoenix Wings

With wings of fire and eyes of ice,
She stands alone in the charcoal night.
Her fingertips are burnt with flame,
And no one dares to speak her name.
Without a sound or whispered word,
She moves about the dark unheard.
Like blood upon a milky moon,
Sleeping in a white cocoon.
Mossy rocks beneath her mutter,
Petrified by words she utters.
Ashes like a silver snow,
Smothering the earth below.
Bending trees before her rage,
Trapped inside a golden cage.
Like a phoenix, fiery red,
Born again before you're dead.
Crimson tears fall from the sky,
As the stars begin to cry.

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