A RisingA Poem by Aramey
The smoke swirls, a rising
intricate patterns lift from my view, the sun has burned it's light into me, memories of the fall before, spiraling, spinning, to the depths of death's door, but oh, glorious life... has touched me, once more, as I rise to my calling, feathers burning bright, a flash across the sky, slicing the darkest night. A phoenix is meant to be free, to live and die, is it's right this bird cannot be caged, even death cannot hold tight. © 2014 ArameyReviews
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1 Review Added on February 11, 2014 Last Updated on February 11, 2014 AuthorArameyPensacola, FLAboutI'm just like any other writer, striving to make a living. If I had a preference it would be novels. more..Writing
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