A phoenix lives in the brief second of a raging fire, vivid with energy and massive, powerful strength. The warmth is overwhelming and immense, but not eternal. That heavenly blast of life lasts only a short while, and it often becomes time for the rebirth, and desolation, of the blazing legend. A new spirit must rise from the ashes, and the last one must embrace its final moments. But how hard is that death, when the only life you live is entirely pure?

"That. Was. Incredible. I loved it! " -The Coffee Mare
"Nicely done. Has a French texture to it with a bit of Edgar Allan Poe with the words. " -Nordenfelt

This is a free verse poem! It is written in no traditional form, nor does it systematically follow some poetic rules.

Partial explanation: Philomena is one being, yet every time she rises from her ashes, a new spirit takes over her body. This is the cycle of the spirits, not the cycle of the phoenix.

Cover art by: Me