"Teardrop Of The Phoenix"


Today's sun burns bright as the phoenix sheds its tears.
Within sorrow there is creation, facing yourself, once looking in the mirror.
Like matter, our destruction yields no loss or gain.
Rotton fruits of our labor turn to rich wine and golden grain.
When life wains heavy, the world on your shoulder,
Those temporary feelings lessen, year-by-year, as the soul grows older.

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