It felt like ages among the thorns, in that dark
But when you came, the black roses bloomed
And my darkest again had a beauty a spark
Yet fear caged my little dove and predicted it's doom
It yearned for belonging, it yearned for love
It craved for it's acceptance which layed at it's feet
But it was never safe, my delicate little dove
For the fire was burning and so was it in the fire's heat
The roses and their petals began to rot and fell apart
And my dove retreated back into it's shell
With it's broken burned bleeding heart
and It layed once again on the thorns of hell
The fear of betrayal and the fear of pain
Made it retreat into the darkness once again
For the poor bird had been hurt alot
In the many battles it fought and fought
But this little dove held will, this little dove held hope
Despite where it's feet were; on that slippery slippery slope
It layed on it's thorns holding it's half heart
And prayed to the Gods and Devils alike in the dark
It prayed for it's black roses
It prayed for love
It prayed for it's half heart
It prayed; the little dove...
~dark poet
