A proud cry,

A swoop of wings,

And the phoenix,

Starts to sing.

It sings its joys,

Of the Earth that it knows,

And the joy in which,

It's feelings show.

It sings of friendships,

Of loyal friends,

And of broken promises,

Which always mend.

It sings of families,

Long and lost,

Who find each other,

At great cost.

And it sings of love,

So young and pure,

A love so happy,

And so sure.

But it also sings,

Of losses and fears,

And as it sings,

It weeps fresh tears.

It sings of hatred,

Of revenge and war,

And machines whose cry,

Is just a roar.

And it sings in longing,

Regret and woe,

And it's message,

It wants you to know.

The world is not perfect,

No where near,

But it's not evil either,

It's not something to fear.

And the phoenix,

Sends it's song to this Earth,

And every last year,

It has been worth.