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The Phoenix rises up He rises from the old ashes.His wings are strong and broad,His gaze is undimmed and sharp.Imposingly he is rising into the air.
Wings touch the ground, beating, beating, against the wind. Blizzard bound to be coming. Almost there, almost there, you got it. Did you really? Talons still on the ground,
A blank sheet of paper reflects Light. On fire, it seems almost blinding Forcing a change, a moment's narrowing Of eyes, as you find a perspective-
She was born from fire.AndFrom those ashes she rose.burnt skin-Burnt skin that sizzled down like gift paper that had been thrown into the fire.
Looked down upon as a songbird With broken wings Whose feeble voice Could barely sing, But the forest floor
Perhaps one of my worst traits is dreaming I dream to leave behind my soft spoken nature To demonstrate confidence I dream to hear the waves of Applause surrounding me. To have the people on the edge of their seats I dream to prove those who call
I cry. I cry, I cry, I cry. I drown - my mind draws a blank, Everyone is flying, Down, I drown. One breath of air, But I don't see the source of oxygen. I breathe, but small, cautious breaths.
I’m worn and withered from being this bird. Of fire and ash, ash and fire. Over and over, morning-born, evening ebbing. Waking up weary in the fluttering, frail flakes burned paper, song, and skin.
This year, I burned myself away I let myself wilt Without dismay Often, I was horrified A world in meltdown Triggered my pride And let me drown I got up, though I always came around
A year ago I wouldn't have known the girl I see now I could not have told you how I did not know me I was in my own self misery I was in deep depression In what I thought was oppression
High five high mind Do I write? or do I type? Higher than the sky my wings will burn I will d i s p e r s e like ashes into the
Through the years my heart had been stifled The childhood songbird lost its voice And the feathers of its wings were plucked Until all that was left was withered
Beat to the rhythm. Tap your toes to the music. Trapped in these prisms, This tune is our rhetoric. Who will speak for us? What is speech against singing? Words are all we trust.
I'll often sing a pretty song It's deep and sweet and not too long Huntsmen come and huntsmen go But they'll never capture me you know I'll never trust you, I'm out of reach
Burn the messagesThe memories char and crinkle until they’re nothing more than what they should have been,what you made them-kindling for the fire burning in the living room of my new house.
Phoenix rises from the ashes Making a new life and form Letting go of the emotions surrounding the old life Letting go of the life I once shared with others Phoenix Rises from the ashes
My skin is shed and
When your fingers brush the
*in response to my n'th reading of The Book Thief by Mark Zusak* It's 11am and 257 pages The words have rinsed over my beaten and bruised soul as the rain.
“a hopeful eye first to jump in a sea of fire,still the scorching lesson leaves more to be desired.
Phoenix Rise The stage, the lights, the crowd I transform into a different character
I put my feet to the street I've never felt a heat,like this,my souls(soles) melt with each step I take,I wanna make a break, and run for it,like Run Forest!but
Born in the Flame of the controversial state. They try to burn my fate with bias hate.
I made myself in their image by the time I was 13. Squeezed my body into the pieces of their machine. My laugh too boisterous, I learned to snicker. My smile too wide, I snapped it in half.
She's so innocent, so sweet Quiet girl, bustling world Why can't she break free? Why can't she scream? Never being noticed or seen So badly she wants the world to see
I’m like a phoenix When I burn down I rise from ashes Straight off the ground
Turning, they're turning. Cogs are swirling, Vines are curling, There's 72 songs playing in my head. Turning, the world is turning. Phones are ringing, And I am still pinging.
Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, I breathe this air one more time, I get back up, though I was burnt to the ground, And just like that phoenix, I may be missing a few feathers and have a few scars,
From a crumbled illusion
Rising from the somber ash Burning brightly toward extinction Pyres pale against its shadow Exalted for its penchant for resilience
Take my hand feel the warmth emitting from the sand as ashes burn I will learn not to break Fragile soul, what more could be at stake? Oh dear one, don't abandon me Oh dear one, hear my prayer
I am like the phoenix. When I burn, I burn with passion. I engulf in pain and sorrowful lessons that twist the flames in a cyclone of radiant, red, rotating fire. The hard way.
the fire cackles, laughing manically as it leaps from branch to branchtreetop to treetop, hollow to hollow,destroying all in its wakenimbly wriggling through the dense undergrowth
So it begins I sit here behind the window of colors and letters composed into complex coils of golds, whites, reds and blacks. I contemplate to myself What now? My desire to create was stagnant in my mind
We loved together We laughed together We cried together Made memories together Every year, we burned bright Faced challenges and obstacles And burned out sometimes But like an immortal Phoenix