Fawkes Poem by Ipshita Chakraborty

A distant song, more like lamented echoes
Cries stricken tales of love, of hunger and woes,
The phoenix breathes his last dejected breath
He stands still now, surrenders to death.
The old flaming feathers get burnt in pain
The funeral pyre stands, grey ashes remain
A confused ugly head props up his head soon
And looks at a new life, a new sun, a new moon.
Ugly just listens; he does not fight; he does not know why
Handsome feathers proclaim that he was not born to die.