Dying Dove

A short poem about a tragic loss for the arts.

The children of the hearts are dying

A previous dove of our minds was flying

Success through conquest was unsought

Never would these doves have fought

The beauteous wings now clipped

The paper where it rest now ripped 

The action being such a tragedy

Now used for fueling industry

However I might be lying

The dove is surely dying

Scholars around will be crying

Reviews

[Quill]

wow, you made this rhyme pretty good, nice poem