The death of peace

Thinking to write,
I hold this pen,
But what shoud i write about?
Should i write about my dove?
She left her cage and took a flight,
only to die in guttural pain.
I found her body in the golden lair,
which sleeps just next to my door.
Poisoned by the world and despair,
her dead head hung down the stone.
I brought her back to my room,
cleand the blood, and rolled a tear.
Today i burried her alone;in fear,
coz there was no one else at the funeral.
As i was putting the headstone of the grave,
millions came running and they wrote,
a name on the stone of the grave-
PEACE!