In the cove where the forest and seas met.
Lies a hut abandoned, but twas never forget.
The vines and moss that crawls and slither—
and the rust of chimes and roses that wither.

Two alike creatures’ dwell within the crest—
and can be found, broken epitaphs lie at rest.
Wings with tail as their ebony feathers trail,
—beaks like gold, a bond that could prevail.

Fly up and below in anywhere they would go.
To unglass windows, scratches on tealish walls.
The hollows of trees that covered with snow,
melts away to crystal-dew as springtime grows.

Rain came pouring, filling the tires off the roof.
Two had a dream, only to raptured by enmity.
With webs that weave the age of their misery.
Both resided the ceiling for heaven once more.

With growls of the wind and cold swiftly blows.
It came strong as the hut is almost unknown.
Both hold on to believe, but one choose to leave.
thinking of nothing, but its own selfish greed.

As skies were cleared onto a rainbow sheer.
Lonesome, broken, one black dove weeping ill,
Breathe, a voice came to the lonely dove's ear.
"Come fly with me, I am God—don't be feared."