Like the Phoenix, she rises again.
the ashes represent her past.
They lie on the ground,
flying away into the calming wind.
 
Like a Scorpion, she stings.
her needle makes a direct hit.
They feel the pain of her wrath,
her point has been made.
 
Like a Horse, she runs
moving quickly through the fields.
Her hair blows with the breeze,
her beauty and grace is in her movement.
 
Like a Butterfly, she flutters.
Her wings, small, yet powerful.
She flies through the air,
gliding across the sky, lo...


Continue reading ...