You think I have lost.
But in the end, you'll know
You'll remember me, the way
I called the hunger from the deepest pits of your throat
As they turned into a vice for a taste
Of being able to sing this lucious.
You think you have won.
I may have left you to silence
The siren mocking an angel
And it is true; for reasons
Not even I am sure if I will ever be aware
If jealousy struck me down.
But as of the phoenix
I will rise from the death I put unto myself;
Though I shall be the first to perish
On the interrogation Mother has put out for me
My spirit's flicker re-lights the sun
My voice, my beak opens and the world
Is given a new meaning--
Legacies of myself will live on much longer
Than the lives of the mortal.
A contest entry
- The Myth of the ThornBird by DarkShard.
700 points, ended August 1, 9 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
CONTEST
Comments
-
'my beak opens and the world
Is given a new meaning--
Legacies of myself will live on much longer
Than the lives of the mortal.'
This ending was so powerfuk that it blotted out the rest of your poem. if you had just written this I would have been just as overjoyed.
You gave a very political perspective of the bird and gave an insight as to why the bird would risk everything including its life to sing. What was it singing, is it an important message that changes the worls a sing at a time.
wow shivers. I loved your view, it was different, inspiring and heartfelt.
makes me think that if every human was a thorn bird would we be heard? are we thornbirds? should we risk everything to change the world?
Good ideas, fantastically penned.
I am irish too
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