The Rising Phoenix

Glory Neeraj posted under Poetry Tale-a-thlon S3: Poetry on 2023-08-25



Neath stormy shroud, I wildly cry, Plumage sodden, my wings can't fly, Rain's tears, hearts so cold, Flame of hope takes hold, Spirits bold, Ghastly sky. Author's Note: Sailing through tempest in "The Rising Phoenix", a voice resounds. Feathers drenched, hearts ice-bound. Yet hope's fire kindles, spirits brave the abyss. In night's grip, the phoenix ascends, triumphant over shadows.   Penmancy gets a small share of every purchase you make through these links, and every little helps us continue bringing you the reads you love!