I am not the venomed claw
nor the wintery cough
nor raging's pride's crimson tongue
nor the firebird's falling feathers, touched with rot

I am not the king in the tower
prisoner of iron
prisoner of fire
prisoner in his own tower, chained to a runaway dream

I am not the fallen king
king of shadows
king of memories
king of spires that rise only in his dreams

king of nothing

I am not he

I am he that dances the changes, marks the time
I am he that rides our Lady Phoenix to the next sunrise
I am he who flies, one sunrise to the next

I am not he that walks in fire and ashes
I am he who rides the skies