The bleeding heart dove,

Gives you its love,

A desperate sacrifice in vain.

It rips the heart from its chest,

Who would have guessed,

Something so meek could endure such pain?

It cries in the night,

It was blinded by the sight,

Of something that might offer it love.

But it tore out its heart,

And it crumbled apart,

There’s no hope for rising above.