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Jan 2019
Airing my ire I was born in the fire,
A Phoenix flying higher with wings that never tire,
I wish I could touch but the glory was too much,
It seared my skin and such feathers iridescent in my clutch.

Swallowing pride I won't wallow inside,
All of my life I could never decide,
To live for myself or let my time slide,
A war in the skin where my spirit resides.

Now in my skin I'm not hollow like tin,
More battles to win I won't sink I can swim,
I won't burn in my sin or burden my kin,
My soul will not dim the darkness I rescind.
Harry Roberts - Pheonix
Harry Roberts
Written by
Harry Roberts  23/M/Between despair and joy
(23/M/Between despair and joy)   
918
   Fawn
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