Wings torn, again, from her scarred back,
Bloodied and forsaken from years attacked.
Though ripped and pulled so often before.
They always tried to return, just once more.
Flightless and maimed, chained to the ground,
Voice ripped from a throat, left with no sound.
Yet, voice would attempt to return so long,
And once again, sing its joyous song.
Songless and flightless, a bird with no hope,
Chained to her cage with a short tethered rope.
Fearing life will continue, but not ready to die,
Dreaming of lost songs, and when she could fly.
Feathers and wings grow back on this bird,
A voice cries loud as she sings her word.
But talons have grown, with razor-sharp blade,
From a sparrow, this cage, a phoenix is made.
No small wings, or gentle sweet song is left,
A bird so majestic and strong arises from death.
Strength to fight back, against feet tethered tight,
As talons and beak taste blood in the fight.
No cage can now hold these strong wings,
As flight returns and voice again sings.
The chains that once held the weak so tight,
Have been shredded for good, in this final fight.
Freedom takes hold as wind lifts her up,
Souring to heights that will never stop.
She arises, alive, whole, and once again free,
The world opens for her now, with wonders to see.
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