Some Pure White Dove

Deep down in your echo, chamber lacerated longings

and the depths of your despair only masked by fear

perfect coverings of love, with love, as love…


From this moment we will surface: together every day.

And at first I was so scared, that I might dream no more

with the cool warm comfort at home to always stay.


I was scared of our stories, radiations in my conscious-

ness of uninformed brains. Our membrance still remains

like a perfect love in Some Pure White Dove. 


And that culture still remains. As the chorus refrains from repeating; no defeating

humanity surrenders to non-violent pretenders. Yes we are the pretenders of peace:

Eternally, infinitely, recurrently on Earth for good (not bad) if you please. 




(Visited 1 times, 1 visits today)