White Flame on a Winter Night

She thought he was the spark that would pierce the winter cold,

forgetting that flames are best at turning everything into cold ashes.

When they first met, he appeared like a god descending from the heavens:

her crushing debts vanished, and glory crowned her.

She lost herself in the warmth of his fingertips,

ignoring the cage he had custom-made for her:

“Know your place. Everything you have belongs to me.”

The bone-deep chill did not come from wind or snow,

but from the embrace she once believed could melt glaciers.

Yet beneath his domineering need for control

lay her shattered heart.

Only when she touched the cold bars of her cage with her fingertips

did she finally realize...

Every time the bird in the cage beats its wings, it is only entertaining the eyes watching from outside…

But when the winter night burns through its last thread of white flame,

will the phoenix, reborn from the ashes,

still need the light that once held her captive?