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...