It dies to fire’s fury
Lives in featherless decay
It cries in the darkest hours
And mourns by light of day.

It angrily gawks at passersby
And curses under its breath
It stares into the heavens
And dreads its fiery death.

When the fire’s fury unfolds
And the flames bloom red and blue
Its dread turns to ashen dust
Life does what life must do.

But, alas, it rises again!
Rears up from the withering heat
Singing of beauty of death
And bliss of rebirth sweet.

Its tail whips in youthful joy
Its neck so proud and high
It flies across eternity
That spirit that cannot die.


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