The Dove

It flew in to say a last goodbye
While she lay in bed
Was it her husband greeting her
The man she had wed

The bird of the whitest feathers
A message of grife from above
Arms held out to take her
From the God that kept her love

When she passed, so did the dove
It flew back to the skies
The last breath was taken
Her wings spread, she began to fly

I saw this from her side
As she waited to die
I give this poem to you
It holds no lie