Pheonix

Just something I wrote about the nature of the human Spirit.

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1. Phoenix

There is a creature, so beautiful and bold. 
Its feathers that of dawn, its beak made of gold. 
A Phoenix, child, a Phoenix lives in each and every one.
And it grows ever stronger with each battle you have won.
But every wound it suffers and every wound it gives. 
Strangles every ember, forges how it lives. 
For there will come a day when the Phoenix finds a place to lie.
Is swallowed by the flame it holds, ready to give in and die. 
But do not worry, little one, for this is fair and true. 
Give the Phoenix heart again, it will rise with flame anew.

 

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