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Phoenix

  • Writer: shivangisaysthis
    shivangisaysthis
  • Jun 13
  • 1 min read

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In the depths of winter

When our hearts turn sour

Rises hope, the bird of gold

Flies to the end, the edge of cold

Catches spring, waiting for her turn

It squeaks, it cackles till it burns

Lighting my way, dispelling the dark

As i walk the walk, an echo starts..

"not too far, not too far"



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© Dr Shivangi Gajwani Jain.

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