Gonçalo—The Phoenix

Prompt: Majestic

Key:

Writer 1

Writer 2

Writer 3

Flowing like the fauna’s air

The breath suddenly stops.

As I see someone standing there,

Beauty rains supreme.

I try to keep it cool, I guess,

It must be what it seems.

To find it here, oh so lonely,

Waiting for us to meet.

Growing is my sense of dread,

as I prepare my steps.

Maybe it won’t be so much

of what was in my head.

Losing my sense of what I had,

The time just seems to stop.

Dirt and water, meet and mix.

Two great things turn to mud.

And then there’s eyes

That fly like doves

My chin up to my nose

I feel the pimples on  my skin

This creaking through my bones

Just when I think it’s said and done

They smile like there’s more

I can’t stop changing over

And over. My body is a throne

The rules may change

But the chair does not

It gets regulated everyday

Feathers emerge

And like a phoenix

I rise from the mud

Gilded with fiery colour