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wellownedbkup…
The phoenix senses that its death is near, after it has seen the world. The sun god has seen it bathing by the well everyday for the past five hundred years. When the phoenix knows it is time to die, it travels home and begins to sing the most beautiful dirge not yet known to man.
Lose the self you thought you knew
Blind and pained from break and bruise
Can you give up on what you know?
One more chain. Death is slow.
Feel the sting of blood… your own
Dark eyes, your head meets with stone
Breathe, the friends who love and care
Will save… Fall, die, you don’t have a prayer.
The sin you have is more than you pay
You should stop the pain, but it keeps dreams at bay.
Turned black and blue, you try to end
The life you do not seek to mend.
To grow old is a sin and a crime.
Who needs to stand the test of time?
Save who you are by never being close
To any and all you love the most.
The light grows faint. My time is here.
Tell Mother not to watch my funeral bier.
The sun god is enthralled by the song of the phoenix, and can’t help but stop in his tracks. The moment he spends doing so, marveling at the bird with the fiery feathers, ignites the nest of wood and spices it has made, starting the funeral pyre. Thus ends the poor bird, roasting him alive.
But it takes more than a slight imperfection to cause the phoenix to just give up on life.
…
The phoenix senses that its death is near, after it has seen the world. The sun god has seen it bathing by the well everyday for the past five hundred years. When the phoenix knows it is time to die, it travels home and begins to sing the most beautiful dirge not yet known to man.
Blind and pained from break and bruise
Can you give up on what you know?
One more chain. Death is slow.
Feel the sting of blood… your own
Dark eyes, your head meets with stone
Breathe, the friends who love and care
Will save… Fall, die, you don’t have a prayer.
The sin you have is more than you pay
You should stop the pain, but it keeps dreams at bay.
Turned black and blue, you try to end
The life you do not seek to mend.
To grow old is a sin and a crime.
Who needs to stand the test of time?
Save who you are by never being close
To any and all you love the most.
The light grows faint. My time is here.
Tell Mother not to watch my funeral bier.
The sun god is enthralled by the song of the phoenix, and can’t help but stop in his tracks. The moment he spends doing so, marveling at the bird with the fiery feathers, ignites the nest of wood and spices it has made, starting the funeral pyre. Thus ends the poor bird, roasting him alive.
But it takes more than a slight imperfection to cause the phoenix to just give up on life.
…
