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Phoenix RisingThe flames of anguish char the gentle life
And desecrate the flower’s scented bloom. Where once was beauty now is ashen gloom, Foreboding loss where happiness was rife. The aftermath cut deeper than a knife, For love and joy and peace had met their doom. All gone the Spirit’s treasures: in their room Abided only pain and grief and strife. But hope is also likened to a fire: A tiny spark, if tended well, will then Burst forth in flames of comfort, warmth and light. Deliverance came and freed you from the pyre, For from the ashes Phoenix rose again And brought the rose of dawning to the night. |
