Fan the flames of love

We are Phoenix we rise above

we fly high against the backdrop

Of a twilight sky

And leave you dead and cold.

Let your sallow soul grow old amongst the bones of those who told

The shallow lie you heard amongst my teardrops.

 

Crystal clear

No malice here

I grace the air with wings of gold.

My heart unfolds with truth and beauty, pure love and loyalty

I am Phoenix.

I rise above.

 

©Alison Jean Hankinson.

Image creative commons free to use from pixabay.

Our love- a car crash.

Fear’s icy tendrils caress the nape of my neck

I see the mangled wreckage up ahead

Acrid smoke spewing from the burnt-out shell

That was your car.

 

Carnage.

Plastic bags strewn across the carriageway carelessly.

Empty nest, neglected summer,

Loneliness brandished in the scorched tyre treads.

 

Relief washes over me

I am waterfall to babbling brook

Phoenix from the ashes-you live on

We have a second chance to ignite and burn brightly.

 

©Alison Jean Hankinson

This is for d’Verse where metaphor is the challenge.

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