What weary winged doves do rest on mother's chest
As crimson sisters draw near
With them grows darkness
Bringers of doubt and dreary dreams

"Worry not, lovely doves."
The mother says so dear

For she carries them as light on high
To never feel the exhaust of fear

In new homes the doves do rest
In light and brightness and glee
Living on above the darkness
The living the sisters fear