The Phoenix


Bird of fire,
Wings of flames,
Leader of the beasts not named.
She flies dawn till dusk,
A bird unknown, forgotten but not lost.
A hope still stands while she flies over our lands,
Yet she will not return until our kind stands hand in hand.
War after war,
Death after death,
It is our fault for every last breath.
We must surrender to be saved,
To be rescued from this smoke-like haze.
For we are the destruction, the death to her flame,
Too focused on trying to win these war-twisted games.
So, listen closely, listen wide,
Put down your arms, put down your pride!
Our world is dying, the flame going out,
The world filled with sickness and droughts.
Only hope and help can save us now,
From the icy hands of death,
Like the bird with a flame in her chest,
First we must fall and then reborn,
we will rise along with the morning tides.
Only then we’ll be free,
To spread our wings and fly from this dead sea...

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