White Dove, She was...to be continued

She was like a dream her deep

stare, in her eyes I was losing


Had wings to fly but was afraid

the wind blew into uncharted


Being I the perfect stranger I

give her shelter.

She arrives without hope, as I

leave with the disgrace;

the White Dove took away my

desire to continue to love and

await for the day that the fruit

of our passion gives birth, until

then I will be born again.

I am left alone counting the

feathers on her wings.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

a hidden message!!

View soulkritic's Full Portfolio