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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required know you this.. There are things that can not fly in the soul of Athena's eye, and one of those things, is I. Your passions form a true concern you ache for everything you yearn to give you everything and more is more than I'd be hoping for, I'm no hero born to love, just a down and broken dove who in its travels stopped to find a quiet place where passion shined a sturdy branch, a rest defined a perch within your lonesome pine to sing of things which haunt its mind, to sing of how Athena beams and how her strength will win her dreams, with warm and gentle Esha's eyes to light her heart, a glowing prize, and how her life is precious, sweet, and oh so difficult to meet, a dove can fly with open wings to sit upon the shoulder of the soul who offers love, but what of this unworldly man who sent the dove a distant land to whisper how he yearns to love a dear Athena as a dove? But not a dove, this woman, she is not a dreamer meant to be with any poor pathetic wings that such a thing in sorrow brings, "Whom shall fly to whom?" It sings, And this is not a lover born not a knight of gallant form but only just a man who failed to get the things of which he wailed, My bank's an empty avenue I have little I can give I stretch the work I do into the fuel I need to live, and what a creature be this dove who wears his heart of hopeless love as any wears a glove upon a sleeve, to sleep and wake in grief of a life without relief for all things it would believe, It trills a mournful call for it's just a mist of wings that weakly floats and weakly sings until no longer flying, it must fall. COPYRIGHT2011ACB
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