Last time I had anything to do with poetry must have been like 10 years ago, in middle school. And my school path isn’t really literary. And English isn’t my native language. So don’t expect too much from this…
High and far in the sky,
Over clouds he could fly;
Phoenix was proud and spry.
Ending its aging fire
In his last, final cry
Spawns this new, and much dire
Dawn of rain in his stead.
Exiting this gray place
Appears now in his head,
Drawing peace on his face.