The dove spends its days in flight

Feathers pure, shimmer under the sunlight

The world brims with possibility

Giving people hope across land and sea

Its image brings prayers to up above

The people revere the little dove.

But arrogance swells in its little chest

A selfish smile instead of the love it once possessed

It preens on high, blind to the dust down below

Its outward shine masks its peaceful glow

Its feathers stain with pride’s heavy mark

What once was light now turns to dark.

The higher the dove soars, the further it strays

Lost in the haze of its own praise

The dove forgets the weight of its wings

That it was never meant to rule - but to sing

The prayers turn silent, and the world cold

Hope slips away from the young and old.

The dove crashes down from its lofty throne

Feathers scattered, pride overthrown

What once was a symbol, blazing and bright

Now shattered, extinguished, lost to the night.