A Phoenix Cry 

What is it that ignites mountains, city's and the sky? 
What is it for which mortals cry? 
What is it that lightning cannot scorch? 
What is it that dragonfire cannot torch? 

It is you! Oh Phoenix, bird of fire! 
Your tragic life is there to inspire! 
For our sins your blood must shed, 
and you keep rising from the dead. 

And when the phoenix ends her flight,
she builds her nest by night. 
Then she sits huddled in a sodden nest 
Curled up for a final rest. 

She shivers, her power is spent 
Plumage sopping, torn and rent. 
Over her chest her head is bent, 
she picks herself in great torment. 

The flames burst out into the sky, 
a burning body, a final cry. 
A heap of ashes, the end of light, 
then comes darkness as if it were night. 

From the ashes there shall rise 
A fiery phoenix to the skies, 
Whose burning wings shall re-ignite 
The light that in our harts reside; 

And once her time passes, 
she will to ignite into ashes. 
Untill the crimes done untill today, 
are burned and purged away.