under a woodsy lighthouse shine
in the darkest crypt of our whitest time
lay a thousand phoenix who forgot to rise
in a moment of reckoning their eyes open wide
wings that lay in ashen heap
in a burst of flames did their feathers beat
scarring the earth in flight to break free
burning oceans barren, killing a scared tree
they lit the sky a midnight pyre
moon was shredded to bits of sapphire
their every flutter, a volcanic kiss
the world was melting, spluttering hiss
like desperate infatuation of an obstinate sun
the phoenix raged, a will to burn
a dying wasteland of blazes whirred
such havoc shaped by vengeful birds
is but a minor chaos, cold and unheard
compared to furious calamity of yer words
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