A dove’s tomb

An artisan’s hand is

What I have, I build

Castles and dreams, guild

All the gold there was…

But my hand chose to

Build a fair tomb to a

Dove, a dove with the

Heart and not peace…

The dove sang songs of

Praise of the emperor, and

The ruler meekly humbled gave

Into its white lies and charm…

Now the dove deceased,

Leaves behind a nest of

Fledglings, to fill and

Frolic the throne…

And chose He, me to

Make a tomb for eternity

A reminder of this dove,

A saga in white, an entity…

Unknown to the world,

Its marble lustre, and golden

Inlay, were my markship, and

Our workmanship…

Our hands severed, we bled,

But the king only saw the

Beauty that the tomb had,

Hence it eclipsed our misery

And our effortless death…

-Prathik Rao