Mother's Lust

My imp breaths slowly.  Scrapping at my womb.

It's ill - tempered wailing, shakes my body at night.

Biting my lip as it bites my flesh.

Piercing eyes shadowing the future fight.

Gulping down the air. Waiting my appending doom.

Forgive me if I have sinned. No more light in my vial.

As my skin whitens, I know whats right.

Forgetting myself. Entering the room.

Suffocating darkness serves as it's last bite.

Consumed to let it out. Don't pity the whore.

Her son will tell no lies.

He is born now.

Forgive not.

Goodbye.