Ignition
She had risked the fire of her face
To return to her swarm days;
She had found all the treasures
Once prized and outlived in many ways;
Are those the wings to fly?
On the day of every low!
Are the petals still there?
To spread the wings to flow!
Firearm
She is regained in the exile day.
She has fired her lust away.
A big triumph hanging in front;
A vast field ready to repay;