As a Bird

She was a dove

But I lost my love

People say that there are always more

But I can no longer soar

My wings have been clipped

Snipped

I can no longer take flight

Doomed to spend the night

Alone

Shown 

What I am, My turf

my true worth

Nothing

It does sting

But I will die soon

I sing my final tune

And write my final line

Above is my sign

My life 

has ended with the scythe