Oct 26, 2009

Beloved Son

Scared. So scared; it feels good to be scared. 
I saw your tiny fingers rushing through your mother's womb. 
I cradled you, but you were lifeless. Then. 
Your blood soaked eyes did not see what it was born into. 
I closed mine. 
I put this on your grave marker:
'Beloved son, my angel. You were loved.' 
I placed a wreath on you, as I dropped a flower on your mother's. 

2 comments:

Sanky said...

How did you think of this topic?? Damn. Awesome. Hail the Hamsini.

Mea Culpa said...

Each time I open this blog to post something new, my mind switches to something dark and grimy...