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Phoenix - Poem, by LaylaBoswell
Luthersville, GA US

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Phoenix - Poem

Phoenix
Martyrs always crumble will the phoenix always rise?
I have stepped into another of those long and wasted lines
Where the worlds of two destructions have met somehow in between
Take their own delusions with something of live that is never seen
Shaking from the cold, the bitter wind of cold wet skin
The collision of those thunders somehow brought about by wind
Smoke and ash through fire have risen to the stars upon the night
When the risky play of madmen cannot stop them as they die
Abandon in the calling and illusion in the glass
There are no realities to move you when youre lying on your back
Soot that soaked in suffering has a bittersweet and heated taste
As the embers slowly die not upon the Phoenixs waist
Phoenix she is wanton, she is battled, and she is scorned
Has walked through the glass path barefoot and cut her skin by every thorn
Phoenix has no cries now for this is many times shes had to repeat
The falling of the burden love had cast upon her feet
Sweetly dangerous, silently callous, her legendary disguise
Set in the very center of those unattainable dark brown eyes
Beneath her lips no smile runs not a single one has yet
Phoenix rises up into the penchance of her chance
Ashes blow for the wind will rise, those embers stir once more
Phoenix hunts for vengeance in the center of her storm.

Description: Martyrs always crumble will the phoenix always rise? I have stepped into another of those long and wasted lines Where the worlds of two destructions have met somehow in between Take their own delusions with something of live that is never seen Shaking from the cold, the bitter wind of cold wet skin The collision of those thunders somehow brought about by wind Smoke and ash through fire have risen to the stars upon the night When the risky play of madmen cannot stop them as they die Abandon in the calling and illusion in the glass There are no realities to move you when youre lying on your back Soot that soaked in suffering has a bittersweet and heated taste As the embers slowly die not upon the Phoenixs waist Phoenix she is wanton, she is battled, and she is scorned Has walked through the glass path barefoot and cut her skin by every thorn Phoenix has no cries now for this is many times shes had to repeat The falling of the burden love had cast upon her feet Sweetly dangerous, silently callous, her legendary disguise Set in the very center of those unattainable dark brown eyes Beneath her lips no smile runs not a single one has yet Phoenix rises up into the penchance of her chance Ashes blow for the wind will rise, those embers stir once more Phoenix hunts for vengeance in the center of her storm.

Photo Posted: Jan 30,2013 Photo Viewed: 391

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