Ceaseless Bend

I'm not sure what it is with me and the Phoenix, I feel sort of like I've always been looking for her, always had this sense of representation. The phoenix is beginning to feel symbolic of my life...

I don't think I'm quite finished with this one, it needs more in order to convey how much I've changed since I last really wrote poetry, let the thoughts carry me, my hands, to expression. I'm rather pleased, but don't hold back.




Look at all that's come to fall,
From hands held too long clenched.
Whose voice shall fight to find the light
From shadowed mind entrenched.

To which rebirth delivers- mirth?
If nothing stands opposing.
And captive tears for many years
Will end their long reposing.

Whilst singing last his Requiem Mass
Is heard the bird of fire.
And mourners all had seen his fall
He's risen from his pyre.

While fitful fear seemed ever near
The poets lips have sputtered.
Tho' naught can mend what has it's end
For now- said lips have uttered.

'Round again the ceaseless bend
And this time, with a smile.
he Prays, in hope, to help him cope
This muse abide awhile.