Lest not forget the finely sharpened lore
Of eyes so clear they tame the crystal sea
Of quarrels dreamed but never fought before
Of broken hears, the cause is blamed on thee
Dream not of things that shall not be again
So calls the crow upon the evening's brow
As for the memories which still remain
There is no need I see for penance now
Be my escape, so cries the lowly dove
As he sits idly upon the ground
I've lost my way to fly because of love
And no, I claim, there is none to be found
So from the doves and crows we now can learn
Love is best when it is felt in return