Mending

Wings Of A Dove...

Broken, battered, and undone,
His jaded shards fell in her hand,
To cut her skin but never run,
Chose to stay and love this man.

Mended, tended and complete,
Her heart was bled to make the glue,
To make it whole and give a beat,
To his heart which broke right through.

Lost, alone and bitter cold,
She trapped herself within a room,
With only hope that she'd be told,
That she's alright and not alone.

Guided, loved and sweetly warm,
His heart took beat to hold her tight,
That same heart that she made norm,
Had swept her up and made things right.

Banded, strengthened and re-done,
Their new story has now begun.