Phoenix, Arise

Just another poem

 

An ember, ash-laden.

She wastes his energy fanning

Trying to get a flicker, a flame

A phoenix risen from the dust.

 

She tries new, different fuel

She covers the ember in old poems

Dusted off from a long period

Being assembled in her mind.

 

The ember stays safely flame-free

She washes her poems merely smoke

And char, so the words are gone

And all that’s left is a carbon shell

 

Using the razor-tip magnesium

She writes biting arguments now

The metallic words catch flame

And burn with a sharpness unparalleled

 

But the white-hot rebukes, burned,

Are short-lived, symbolizing her hopes

The reaction that took place

Was but to be expected.

 

Frantically she glances around

A last solution, dripping with combustibles

She carries it, stumble, and it falls and shatters

And droplets ignite and burn away on the wind.

 

Her last hope, shattered

 

She falls to the ground, ignoring

The shards of glass deep in her knees

She’s a distance from the ember

So her tears flow, unnoticed

 

And she bleeds

as the glow dies