by Harriet Gauger
Maybe I'm a phoenix;
Maybe I've no time for silly things,
And instead rise from the ashes,
With glorious, burning wings.
And a fire down my spine, to set me alight
An ember for a dream, sure to ignite.
Perhaps I am a phoenix;
I've the dark night's sky to set ablaze,
And perhaps I shine the brightest...
Amidst the winter's chilling haze.
And my hair is alive, here a scorching fire,
The bird of prey, a fiery live-wire.
I know I am a phoenix;
I can strike, set a match, light a flame,
I can burn, suffer, die and fall,
I am the verse and the haunting refrain.
And I've one flicker left - a way to return -
For I'll always come back from the place where I burned.