In the blackest of hell tide, high in a grand tree with it's clothin' white as snow but it's skin as black as hell...a female dove of hell tide rests in the grand tree.
The tree of which her hopes & happiness hangs by a thread on the topiary extensions of her home, she with her pale icy blue eyes her souls wonder around the white-land hell tide.
In search of her lost companion she longs for to be at her side to warm her & her child within her bust, she does as a mother would.
Restin' her child underneath her to keep her warm as the dove's feather tips turn ice white as she cries out for her mate to return to her aid & restore her & her child's warmth & eyes of hopefulness...