Two doves commence their labor in the oblong, stoned dovecote with their fellow birds in the high fortressed mountain subject to the shivers of peril itself; 

The first dove works under the guidance of her newfound partners, while the other dove goes on alone in her role in fertilizing for the small angels.

They move forth with their diligent days, yet when they came to interact with another from the day the newcomer dove flew to the mountain, they were at odds, the independent dove pecking at the newcomer with her rebuking while the other had to make room for her new days to come. 

That was for how they, despite their moments of null serenity with one another, something came with them along the way:

The effects of something that weighed their flight to a hopeful future down from their wishes.

Those two doves came with the impurest of things;

The first dove came with conflicting silence, subject to her father’s cries and his unforgettable words he put upon her, making her unwilling to spread out her true wings to the day they flew to the wrathful desert towards their present residence, superior and commanding as it could be. Even finding love there could not let her fly out of pain, for the preying eagles would still be after her,

While the other dove came with the convivialities of making something majestic in its flavors, thriving with her loved one until he would fly away from the preying eagles, yet he would plummet from the destinies of fulfilling their lives into their hands. Their chick too would fall; even making it through such a karmic wild wouldn’t help to stray away from the weighing crisis itself, for the preying eagles would fall to the dove’s coldness in turn.

Those two doves shared such predicaments that weighed them down of such hope, to the point they couldn’t fly to the world they wished for initially.

Sadness hung over their days from within as a self-guilty force gripping onto their hearts, making them lost on their way to the future;

The first dove would be forever lonely with only nature to seek for, the other dove would stay aloof on the path she went with nobody to seek trust for except her mother.

What else could they do other than weep and obscure themselves in the dark feathers of guilt itself?

Unless, they’d need to flap their wings again. To accept everything they went through.

Two doves head forth to a path God has offered for them to truly spread their wings, approaching the burdensome regret put upon them for the thing that had weighed them down so deeply, seeking for the mother of wisdom along the way;

The first dove, about to soon have an upbringing of her chick, goes under the mother’s words to eat the bitter herbs of regret at the time of darkness, for it would be as somber as her time in the desert. She knotted and cut away her feathers, making tea for a lost friend from the husband she turned affectionate to with the only prayer of the names of Raphael out of her beak. The lost friend that had once loomed over her visions came into sight, until the dove would run from that ill moment. Until, she succumbed to and accepted what sadness itself was meant to be, for those were the tearsome dreams of the lost friend and the lion she had once been associated with,

While the other, who had once been hurled with the experience of humiliation on her first day to her labor, has the revolution of her vengeant son-in-law and silenced chicks over the weighing thing from long ago, going under her mother’s words while also putting the opposing dove to question in her own envy, for she had yet to exude a serene trust within her peer for the tragic times that have come.

Until they’d see something they’d have in common.

Confronting those around them. Just as they could towards each of their guilt.

Time flies through, as the two doves come to interact; the first dove would show how much of nature was in tact with her to the other dove’s precious silent chicks with a scorpion, and the hawk so preciously called Odeum. Both doves came to the acceptance of more birds flying in from the preying eagles, and the confiding of the first dove with her cultist peer.

Until the day the first dove would bring the birth of her own chick on a wild day.

As she would go on in dreadful words, the other dove’s sister tenses the wild day after flying away with her loved one unaccepted by the mother of wisdom out of the perilous mountain. However, with love in hand, the sister returns, gathering with the other dove and their loved ones in pressing through for the first dove’s birth. Persistence and confrontation flutters through, and the chick is brought to life.

There, in that whimsical connection, the other dove comes to sense how her own chick had fallen with her loved one.

Her already darkened heart aches and aches in remorse over the year passing of her chick’s loss. She did not know where to truly recover now, for she was so mentally unusual in her thoughts, until the day she too would have to seek her mother of wisdom, just as she did before.

As her heart-to-heart with her son-in-law goes on conflictingly, she would fly to her mother of wisdom in the dreamy cistern.

She would finally come to weep in her wings, with all burdensome thoughts of her actions in the wild put into questions, and how she was no longer herself.

She had finally accepted that weighing thought, just as the first dove did, for she was no different than her in what the weighing thing had done to them altogether.

Two doves flutter forth with their remorse, continuing their labor in the dovecote with their fellow birds in the mountain with future destiny in their hands.