White Feathers Turn Red

Up in the hills,
I was born in a nest,On a tree.
Like lilies and roses,
Nature was my home and i was free.

I was born pretty,my feathers white,
My lovely Mother taught me my first flight.
Days passed,I flew great unseen earthly height,
Nothing stopped me nor did i have a stoplight.

I stared at the fields of corn,
Every glimpse by the grace of the glorious sun.
I stared at the countless stars,
Every sparkle by the grace of the charming moon.

Dark nights or a sunny day,
i always loved to fly away.
Never wondered i would see,
Human tears like a vast sea.

For poets,i am a synonym of beauty,
Their lines make me feel,i'm pretty.
For me,Human life is such a pity,
Gods to end it,need to do endless charity.

I am the symbol of peace to end every war,
Up in the sky,i felt my elegant power,
Peace you are so precious.
Are u hidden in any fortress?.

Life was all merry,
Never did i feel for myself,sorry.
Until one day i woke up,
In a hunters cage,locked up.

My eyes so tiny could see many colors of love,
Rhyming to love is my name,i am called a dove.
Seasons passed and days rolled,
i saw tearful lives end unknown,stories untold.

I never knew my end,my merciless end.
they laid me to rest,without a tear shed.
My white feathers soaked in blood.
My white feathers turned red.