The Death of a Poem

A song of praise from a feathered throat
Cheers the budding of greenish spry
Rain drops plink on colors afloat
In a puddle reflecting the rainbow sky

The drought sucks the heaven dry
Life reeked of its melancholy past
in the maze; winds in the void sigh
counting sands of the desert vast

Force in space against divine grace
Is but one dimension of the design
Time can hold the pawn of desire
But fate shall make the phoenix fly