The Phoenix

Passioned renewed among the candle flames

Dying over the fire of little purpose 

Your passion slowly fades into darkness 

Birds of flame are but a myth and so 

To think that you'll renew unimaginable 

Little did you know that one day a match would strike 

Against the stones of your threshold like 

It did for me one long time ago way back then 

The feeling of retriubution among us men 

You are the phoenix. 

Author's Note

Feedback appreciated!

Reviews

[chelwig]

I have to wonder, what do you mean by "Dying over the fire of little purpose"? I have a feeling you are trying to give a point, but I don't know what you are trying to illustrate.

[...]

This feels connected to 'Passion' the taste of the words no particularly given to the fact that there are repetitions but the overall tone. Lovely imagery as well. Starz