Beauty in the eyes

I have long been fascinated
By the Change
From the Beautiful to Wicked
To the Strange
I have read some twisted lines
To a word
Till one day my eyes caught sight
Of a bird
Once a stinging furnace of flame
To draw blood
Then a fearful species of game
In the mud
Of a phoenix feathers unheard
It survives
Just a tiny stunt of a bird
With no eyes
Just a socketful of raw hell
To be tamed
In a whirling depth of a well
Fit to maim
Just a trusting gullible child
Lost in life
To be put to death and to guide
Through the strife
To be caged and saved all the same
In a rush
Just in case it changed its frail frame
From the ash

To be born once more to the light
It would crave for us love and fight.

It would teach us too how to burn
And be back in full as well earned

How to yield to death without fear
And survive the one of those dear

To behold the passing of days
Beauty in your eye, mind the chains.