The doves sacrifice

The lake, perched upon

The landscape, black

Dotting ducks flying

With wings of fire.

Freedom expressed, in the

Language of nature.

Men and women walking

Hand in hand in blissful romance.

Far from the world,

Far from the lake where

The weeds of greed are

Growing forever uncared.

The water is black

Here in the dark.

It flows, slowly, heavily

Creeping into the silvery lake.

Not, long from now

Till all is erased.

Men and women no more

Walk hand in hand.

But, the ducks still fly

With wings, touching the sky.

But, the doves have fallen

Black they have been dyed.

Falling into a deep valley

Of tumultuous pain and loss,

Of the reality of subjugation

Conformed, polished in to floss.

Incredible strength though

They have in their souls.

But uncontrolled, terrified
They all wait as future unrolls.

Now, in the valley

Green grows the plants.

The death of the dove,

Has brought back the romance.

The dove fell to feed

A lost, hidden seed.

The plant now has grown

Towering above the ground.

Bears fruit and dies.

But of the doves sacrifice,

Mere words can never suffice.

---Mohan