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Phoenix Games

Poetry By: Helcar


Submitted:Oct 14, 2010    Reads: 51    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   

The image forms within my mind,

But somehow yet falls far behind.

Dreams and goals all broken shells,

Resolves face torment; torture; hell.

The barren landscape screams the claim

That somehow I've been rendered lame.

Strain to stand and always fall

No longer fierce or standing tall.

Defeat's cold sleet dampens the flame

That fights internal, barely tame.

Recurring blockage threatens ends;

Burning forts hard to defend.

The fiery phoenix burns with shame

That it must fight a losing game.


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