Phoenix

By Karen A. Romanko

She rises from the ashes
fully grown, red hair
gleams with strands of gold,
green eyes search for a long sword
left below the altar.

She descends the stairs
from the table's flames,
pale hand reaches for the blade,
fingers drag along the cape,
showing garb's importance.

She leaves the temple
where the ancestors burned,
head allows she will return,
heart wonders why her kind is cursed
to walk the earth alone.

She fights for the humans
she knows are true, strong arm
smites the wicked and cruel,
keen ear listens for the tune
which calls her to the altar.

She ascends the stairs
to the table's flames,
pale hand places down the blade,
fingers leave beside the cape,
for one she'll never know.