You knew what I would do

If you opened the door 

I Would fly

To the woods, to the fire

As the rope swings

I would not recall the warnings;

you gave,at my released 

I would hang to the death, until fingers released

Walk,until legs were sore and embers lit the ash

Then with dirt covered knees, I would recall

A home, with a door 

From where,the pigeon flew