Doves stand for love/why/doves dont ever cry in the dungen there sinning/with white linning/like the pearl feathers
                          on there beatiful bodys/still looking at me eye to eye/plotting/to dissipitate me in some way/then something
                          somehow/makes there color turn gray/trying to slay I/they turn into dark crows/now black as night they attack in
                          furious flows/pecking at me as I tighten every muscle and it feels like im getting tortured with a thousand
                          arrows/wild birds/its day/but all i see is black/as they fly in hurds/my mind and bodys crys cannot be expressed in
                          words/flayling for my life/with only a rusted knife/i try to dispose of mine/for i cannot live in trife/peircing my skin
                          apart/i insert my heart/doves that standed for love/have betrayled me/from the good trusted above/i took one final
                          deep breath and held in/drowning in blood/as my source of emotions grow slow/it beatinglessly does