Here.
There was a dove in a cage. It kept battering against the cage trying to become free. It kept beating against the cage. Feathers were flying, screeches were being made, sorrow was emitted from the small creature. Eventually blood and feathers were all over the cage, the wings were raw and bloody, and the once beautiful dove was now stained with blood and least to say broken. I could here it weeze for breath as it laid at the bottom of it's cage. I could relate to this creature. Once happy and perfect, then bacame isolated and lonely, then wanted freedom and fought soo hard to get out, and for the very last now we both lay broken with despair. I opened the cage and reached in, I brought the dove out of the cage, then I broke it in my hand.... Mercy?
The end.
Langendorfer · Fri Mar 07, 2008 @ 12:59am · 0 Comments |