Oh night, you have come once more. The clouds cover that which is beautiful, the stars from a distant world.
She moarns the loss of her son, her love not enough to change his fate, so she weeps, weeps, weeps.
Her tired heart enters the bed, longing for sleep to grant her relief, but it does not come. She lies there alone, wishing to turn back time. If only her love could control death, but it does not and death does not control her. It is simply a part of her.
My heart is with you.
*A tribute to the mothers in Africa who have lost because of aids and hunger related deaths.
1 comment:
i will be pretty available all weekend. I'm not sure of the time change, but I am up early and will happily be woken up to chat with my sweet Boy. Certainly any time after 8 am.
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