Said it soft and slowly,
With words tantalized and teased me,
Had me hanging on the edge of your twisted blade,
Thought you were here to set me free,
Instead you plucked off all my feathers,
One by one,
Recounting poems of romance and doves,
As you took away my beauty,
And striped away the bone,
With kisses and your wicked teeth,
You bled me out and with malicious might-
Took my heart and fled in the night,
But I am not a feeble creature,
My vigor burns eternally, bright,
My bones mended and my feather grew back,
Black instead of white,
My innocent appearance left to smolder,
My ebony cloak gleams,
Beneath which my scars are seen,
This wicked phoenix is not dead,
But born again from my own sea of red,