The Dove

'twas four o'clock in the morn'
Days of worry and of scorn
Led me to this place to mourn
The lovely, lonesome dove
Redemption is bliss
In the lonely abyss
With a bittersweet kiss
From the wandering dove
As far as I can tell
The whole worlds trying to repel
And in the end I fell
On my knees, amid the dove
The vastness of space
Take me away from this place
The elegance and grace
Of the lustful,white dove
The worlds not black and gray
Though it appears that way
Destroy myself I may
Worshipping that crying dove
Washing the blood of my hand
The endless blackness of a man
Horrible deeds, wretched plans
That horrid, lonesome dove