The dove flies over the prestine water,
gracing eyes with its beauty and splendor.
Every eye looked at it with a hunger,
all of them wanted to have it.
It was love emobodied in a single form,
a single and majestic form.
The eyes thought that they would have it.
Perhaps, maybe one would be so lucky.
As another day approached anew,
the eyes waited to see the dove fly over.
When it finally did,
they courted it, and competed for the prize.
Competition soon turned to jealousy,
and a battle to be better than one another.
The lovely dove just marveled at all the eyes,
and stared in amazement.
So many found her appealing,
it was flattering really.
She enjoyed the eyes,
but was soon growing tired,
tired of the constant bickering.
Finally as the sun dropped below the precipice
she chose a mate.
The other eyes glared in anguish,
at the new lovers.
They whispered curses under their breath,
Jealousy was driving them,
driving them with malicious intent.
Something about these two though,
kept them at bay.
They stared in bewilderment at the beauty of it all,
and the romanticness contained in this one event.
So today the dove remained safe,
for the love that had captured her heart,
was true and that of divinities' purity.
The love burned through time's corridors,
and branded itself upon our hearts.
Thus love lives on in all the hearts of romantics.