She ran after the doves,
peace be with her, peace be with her sons;
the one’s she silently protected.
She grew wings out of her blood, every strike on her grew into a new feather.
She ran after the doves,
peace be with her, peace be with her sons;
the one’s she silently protected.
She grew wings out of her blood, every strike on her grew into a new feather.
Purple Empaths