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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

These lines will read differently as you lean into them with a lens of your own - that be of a lover, a survivor battling mental illness, or something else entirely. I would love to hear what your lens is as you read this.


She is a spark,

A droplet of amber glow to illuminate the dark that dwells in your psyche,

Confess, your yearning heart is a fractured rainbow of black without her crimson ink.


She is a flame,

A sultry warmth that begins with a mellow tinge underneath your skin,

Melting resistance inch by inch,

Accede, her rosy embers suffusing your blood with a hushed vow of possibilities.


She is a firestorm,

Deliverance awaits in her embrace as she wraps herself around your being,

Her white flames seeping through the cracks of your spirit, purifying,

Replacing darkness with light as you are engulfed in a fiery ecstasy,

Delivered, your soul languorously rising from the ashes to assume a new identity.


You are the phoenix, and her war cry is your mercy.

Submitted: November 18, 2020

© Copyright 2021 poetrybyarchisha. All rights reserved.

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