Did fear flicker
in the phoenix’s eyes
when the fire began?
Did she set herself aflame
not knowing if she’d rise again?
Her heart igniting
from the inside out,
Devouring her familiar cage
Consuming the world she called her own.
Did she wonder,
was this her final breath?
Ash holds no whispers of spark—
no promise of return.
Or did she welcome the blaze,
Facing the heat of change?
Free to fly, fearless of the flames
that transformed her.
Aug 24, 2025
Aug 24, 2025 at 2:04 PM UTC
Did fear flicker
in the phoenix’s eyes
when the fire began?
Did she set herself aflame
not knowing if she’d rise again?
Her heart igniting
from the inside out,
Devouring her familiar cage
Consuming the world she called her own.
Did she wonder,
was this her final breath?
Ash holds no whispers of spark—
no promise of return.
Or did she welcome the blaze,
Facing the heat of change?
Free to fly, fearless of the flames
that transformed her.
I wonder if she was ready to destroy it all even without the promise of returning. That is a comforting thought sometimes.