Phoenix Poem by Leon Moon

Deprived of her depravity
She relies on for sanity,
She rips me apart so silently,
Crushed by the wind of her armed neutrality,
Carried by the wings of paradoxical vanity,
Her life is a green room only I can see,
The loneliness of god hidden
In the dawn-eyed dark,
Killing me blissfully.

She's running out of nothing
And her ideas freeze to ice on the floor
She's running out of nowhere
Now she no longer has a place to fall;

Echoes of shards that once formed misery
Tread alone in the mystery that pervades
The space she creates, streams of possibilities
Stitch the river that flows constantly, she grows
And dies long enough to escape the day
Rearranging history, deceiving honestly
Illusions split and go their own way.

She running out of nothing
And her emptiness is shaking the walls
She's running out of nowhere
For she knows there is no other home;

There hides a paradise behind your mind
It can always be found, if you're dead or alive
In a timeless abyss, through all that exists.
In all of this, I find you are mine
Time after time, our love persists
As our bodies die, our souls return to bliss
Creating the night, for yesterday to rise.

She's running out of nowhere
Now she no longer has a place to fall;

Echoes of shards that once formed misery
Tread alone in the mystery that pervades
The space she creates, streams of possibilities...