Whispers of a Dove

Who am I?

But a patron to death 

Withering and withering 

Day after day 

Who am I 

If I cannot see clearly 

Weary and weary 

Day after day 

Who are you 

But a figment of delusion 

Vicious and vicarious 

Day after day

Who are you To me

A friend?

But after all that is done 

You are still here 

She comes to me  

In a dove of tolerance 

And stretches every cell in my body 

Letting me inhale 

And exhale 

The world 

In it’s fire

In it’s pain 

Out the humanity 

And out the flame

But, she says

I am not done 

And sews up my scars 

And broken bones 

Who cares for fire in the end 

When all one can really do is bend 

Bend bend bend and 

Break 

Break under his burden 

And cry for her sake 

If you can 

Break the surface 

Breathe for those 

Too broken to be 

Breathe

Inhale the fire 

Exhale the flame

Out the humanity 

In the pain 

Who am I 

But a savior of the dust in the light