When the Phoenix dies it is reborn,
This time it takes a different form,
The fires of passion are now in the past,
This new bird has a friendship to last,
And though we may think of what could have been,
The future is something no-one could have seen,
For the new future is good and surrounded by love,
And now the Phoenix takes the form of a dove.

Categories: Other WritingTags: ,


Student of English Literature, Comparative Literature and Classics at Glasgow University. Aspiring writer and poet who dabbles in acting when he can. Or in short... "I like words"

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