I found a dying bird at my feet today
Stiff, aching, wounded, breathing its last
Its noble plumage besmirched with its own filth
And I lifted it from the ground tenderly and asked,
"O great creature, what has brought you down
From the heavens you once dominated so?"
With its dwindling strength it turned towards me and spoke:
"I was weighed down by my own spite and hurt;
My hatred and fear has brought me low,
And at last it has consumed me beyond repair.
Help me find the peace I need, strange friend."
To my breast I pressed the once-proud beast,
Loved it, cherished it, cried for its suffering,
Then, with gentle footsteps, I carried it to the pyre,
And with a last farewell I laid it down in flames.
Its final sigh was nearly drowned by the crackling coals.
My heart, though heavy, now sang the praises
Of the phoenix now consumed by a different fire
Than that which once burned brightly within.
And then, the last glorious feathers engulfed,
I saw a shape stir within the purifying fire,
As the bird, reborn, stretched out its wings
And, crying proudly, soared upwards into the sky,
Sheltering me from the pain with its grand shadow,
Lifting my spirit up into the heavens where it belongs.
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