Upon a time there was a man
Who met a golden bird
Fabled born of ash and fire
Whose tears healed all, he'd heard.
The man in all his misery
Said "There's no one worse than I
Give me hope, all I ask,
Is to feel your treasured cry."
"Lay your fair heart to me
Said the phoenix of his request
So I can feel its soothing beat
And spill hope down your chest."
The man knelt slowly to the dust
And strength became him then
When he felt her silken feathers
And the fiery tears that ran.
This man had never felt such beauty
And a shocking spurt of greed
Caused him to clasp her by the neck
And from her eyes tears squeezed.
Said the man of her liquid beads
"I'll have every lasting drop-
Until you're dry as bone and sand
Will I ever stop."
"Then be it so poor mortal, sir,"
Said the phoenix to the man
"You wring me dry, I'll die, I'll die
By such a feeble hand."
The man seized soon but far too late
Whispering softly off the tongue
"Forgive me, Phoenix, please, my friend."
But the damage was then done.
The bird let fall her last glossy tears
As they mingled tainted red
And with the spread of magnificent wings
And a shattered sigh, she fled.
Higher than the sky she flew
To the loneliness of a star
Berthed to it in desperate need
Of the warmth it sent so far.
And the phoenix shivered her golden plume
And with a graceful golden leap
She curled herself around the star
And closed her eyes to ever sleep.