An ashen lacked Phoenix,
Looms; a caste for deaths quell.
Swept by drafts of felt deepness,
Moments pass, in finite swells...
A sparking firestorm plumes,
From a battering cacophony of ice.
A muddled mind continues-astute,
Into shattered ends-denying their bloom...
Abrupt-from reality erupts,
The holy grail of instinct.
Awestruck, yearning hands thrust-
Eager to escape what "me" thinks...
