Written after my mum had a miscarriage |
Grieving mother’s cries of desolation ring to haunt unhearing ears Fragile, delicate, beautiful, yet tinged black with half reproach Injustice grandiose, the body dead before the mind was born Lived long enough to feel pain - violence Soul torn out through chest from oxygen-starved brain First cry should sound but stifled by a deadly silence The lifeline into mother held round, tight, the swollen throat Violence in innocence Contemplation, grief unfurled, pay penance for some sin So great to incur such pain, injustice high in heaven What bitter twisted angels must be, to seek grave retribution Violence in perfection And of the mother violated by the corpse she bore unknowing The loving bond already formed now broken, torn, like heart The rampant torment welling up inside a gaping hole in chest Violence in body And of the father, unable to understand his own feelings or those of his love Red eyes dulled, vacant stare breaks as he Screams at the sky “Why did he die? What God brought this upon us?” Violence in spirit And violence in all that is human and more Violence is the working of the planet- our green whore To exploit and to tarnish Is the pain We feel, when nature reclaims loved ones’ bodies Unjust? When we rape her and scar her and stain her And leave her broken, hollow shell to burn |