as told by Takhisis:

Phoenix, raise your violet head from cold and tempering flames.
Ruffled feathers like a thousand soft knives, heart-held.
Backsweep swan-arched wings, cast the blade behind so elegant
to sever the clinging plague of history.

"I am not who you think I am."

Your Name is a triumphant scream that shreds through the wind
and shatters the simple ear with its crystal edge.
The secret of a dark-orbed twin is held behind laughing eyes
and lives in the rushing chambers of the heart.

Starburst of flame and shell and away!

Leaping high over smoldering embers of history, dance.
Never mourning ashed names and faces past, look forward
Your fire projects the dawn, behind, the coals are dying sunset
in the grey nest of old hearts.

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