Prophecy (second attempt)

Not so far from phoenix cry,
A difficult, unlucky pry.
Magic born of open sky
Cage a story thrice defy:

A mortal end, immortal soul,
Duel plumes of dual goal.
Far from freedom, timeless foe
That one must cause the other woe.

With that shadow, left of age,
Hidden from untimely sage,
Hard it bodes, the war it wage
And one should die a timely mage.