The Dove

The Dove

The sacred creature of heaven, never scorned
The peaceful bliss brough to earth reformed
Pathfinder for everything one could seek
Though no heart can escape its pure beak

An honest heart held everly close
Wishing not upon the world, but of a single rose
An angel to all who aren't blind
A bird to those who have nothing to find

Searching for land in this red flood
Finding land above this sea of blood
Saving souls by purification
Burning their sins in golden incineration

In the mouth is carried but one flower
The rose which in one's eye has no power
But into the soul it serves its purpose
Rescuing the drowning heart by surface

The beauty beheld unto its white essence
No single flaw can ruin the pure feathers
Flying through the darkest of storms and greatest of fire
Surfacing from the pain flying even higher

This saint, another imperfect angel of this realm
Saving all she can by saving all from pain inflicted unto herself
Selfless with exception of but one rose held
A beautiful flower that shall never wilt

No gifts can be given for recompense
The only offer i can give is this,
My flawed gift of paper and pen
Showing you what the wolf keeps in his den

Author's Note

Another part of the compilation. A sort of story I wrote on my free time. It's not meant to be professional, merely a hobby.

Reviews

[Tate Morgan]

Can any one really say they know another let alone themselves

[....]

Wow this is wonderful, love the emotions written about. I really liked and enjoyed your last stanza.