A Caged Mockingjay

Happiness. A luxury of the wealthy.

Hope. A delusion. A wisp of smoke.

Heartache. A plague. A disease I spread.

I bring death with arrows and fire.

I bring pain to the arms who held me strong.

Hoping for happiness, aching for justice

but flames cannot burn on a bed of Snow.

Mockingjay trapped in a magic act

only living to return to its cage.

On display, igniting the fire

which burns both those I love and hate.

Will this end? Or will the tragedy consume me

For games played with fire and ice

are deadly just the same.