pho-enix

“Phoenixes burst into flame
when it is time for them to die, and
are reborn from the ash.”
You said.

Only if it could.

Perish,
when it is about time;
turning into ash,
to dust, and to dust, then into dust;
go back to the ground,
to the earth.

And all pray,
hopefully,
for the great return,
for the great reborn.

And all wishing to be the phoenix:
dead, and reborn;
dimmed, and relight;
vanished, and reappear;

Yet all
remained as ash.

Hopelessly perish alone.

The dark gutter,
The lonely gutter.

Written on 25 October 2013,
An inspiration from a sentence from my love — about phoenixes.

 

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