hear the song of the morning dove
my precious child,
calling out across the empty fields,
leading you back to the land of
fairy tales and dreams,
where your soul shall know
kindness and sweetness
once more;
do not weep
my beautiful little flower,
for surely it is an innocent passage
into this shining kingdom
where angels softly sing,
cradling you gently in their protective arms,
wiping away your tears,
where the darkness of this world
shall cross your face
no more.
.
.
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