Wednesday, January 23, 2019

A Death Called Dove

by D. Sager (writer), In the wind, March 03, 2014

Credit: angelthedream
Found then a little dove cowering in the birth of new

What a short time I had been given to experience love

Found then a little dove cowering in the birth of new

A blade came near and scant to miss

only a hairs breath relinquishing bliss

Flying before her time with wind both a friend and foe

Thinking to see, her wings grow tired

Blind fear rushes in ne'er more inspired

A shy grasp at what becomes a mysterious fateful lore

Trying but giving away the hidden life

Reduced to nothing and shut in by strife

Again the hungry clock stood its watch o'er gentle dove

Only to alight were she would ne'er to fly

Wings fail to carry her to comforting sky

Talented feathery quills of reaching passion stoned to silence

Will giving her gifts to the clouds that call

Only create small pieces in the memory of all

Just dreams of doves laying torn in dawns fading embrace

O fragile dove you'll ne'er see forever pain

Walking in silence 'cause your wings are maimed

First published in Opinions Of Eye

About the Writer

D. Sager is a writer for BrooWaha. For more information, visit the writer's website.
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