Black Dove: See You Soon

Monday, April 23, 2012

A calm little bird flies high in the sky,

No one looks as he flies by.

He gives out a small cry, so someone may see,

But no one wants to but me.

The things this wondrous creature goes through,

Each day I wave, everyday it feels new.

He is found to be frightening, a symbol so grim,

And no one is ever kind to him.

No one will wave, or watch this sad bird,

For fear of the robed man's cursing dead words.

This, his messenger bird, his beaken so black,

Everyday he waits for his raven to come back.

A poor foul thing, it isn't his fault,

It's the man in black, it's what he'll soon want.

One day he will come, to take someones soul,

A terrible curse, a deadly toll.

So this poor creature flies, trying to find a friend,

Before the Grim Reaper takes another again.

But I wait for the bird, everyday, every night,

Not afraid of this most unheavenly sight.

So I wave goodbye, hear a soft wing beat swoon,

Calling out to my friend, I shall see you soon.

Black Dove