Killing a Dove

How doth one kill a dove?

No bullet or knife
Can clean cut.

No hand holds such strength
To random wring.

No sight or cunning
Can clearly connive.

No Words or ideas
To terribly tantalize.

There is but one
One way’est to waste.

One death of love
Do defeateth dove.

Lack of trust or sincerity
Of serrate simplicity.

That thou, is thy key
For to kill thy dove
Would be to remedy
False love, tragedy.

How doth one kill a dove?

I knoweth not, undoubted.

But fare thee well.
For death to thy dove
May come to thee
Via tragic love.