Rise Of The Phoenix

As the light behind her eyes faded, somewhere in the lands of myths and tales a phoenix burnt itself to ashes.
14000 years of life, of mirth, of wonders, of flying over lands forgotten and now this sudden over-whelming sadness.
A tear glistened in her eye. Threatening to break it’s way out. Blue, she sighed. What happened to her? Her soul charred.. emotionless she sat and stared at the white lifeless walls.
The Phoenix once vibrant now gloomy-ash gray-felt the life slip away. It was time he combusted.
She had tasted all that was there to life or at least that’s what she thought or felt. Her soul, it felt like was no more. She felt hollow. An artist with no passion. Staring at the canvas awaiting colours in front of her. A singer without a voice. Screaming nevertheless. A writer with no inspiration. Blank pages her destination.
How hollow, how blank? Perhaps my soul will be awakened…. Someday.
The shrill screams of the phoenix echoed through the mountains as it charred itself to demise, promising resurrection-revival-burnt now to ashes which rained and rained down over the valley like snow flakes veiling the sins of sinners.
Her eyes gleamed of no tears anymore. No passion either. No signs of life. No mystery. She spent days staring at the blankness of walls, papers and if anything made a sound at-all around her? it was her silence. Oh how she screamed.
Ashes white over the dark valley-a veil of glory over the darkness that lay beneath it, trying to break out of it.
Where have you gone to? She asked herself. They asked her. Where did she wander off to? “Come back!” they said.
But no longer she heard their voices. She was lost in lands afar-unknown.
And what would the mundanes know?
Ashes with the wind flew unveiling the enshrouding unashamed darkness that leapt at the innocent ones hiding or running. Or perhaps the cowardly hearts. Or the faithless ones?
No. She hasn’t lost her faith. She isn’t dead either. Maybe asleep for now. Maybe she was tired. But she’s not dead. She has fallen. But she will come around. Her soul, revived. Something gleamed in her eyes, hope?
She will rise.
Somewhere in the lands afar-unknown to the mortals-rose out of the ashes, a Phoenix!

-The Gypsy