Mother

The labyrinth of existence,

joined with fear,

the crusaders came,

with mighty shields and spears,

to cut, stab, bruise and kill.

They came, again and again,

screaming, uncouth, brash,

the deserted child, trembling,

speared in the chest,whiplash-

in the neck, blinding pain,

she succumbed,alone,in silence.

The red eyed whore, bent down,

embraced the child, mad with grief

she ran to her den, where she-

springs upon lust driven men,

every night, a dozen times,

they groan, they curse, in hurt and joy.

She bends, just like the other night,

where a monster took her from behind,

the child laid on her crumpled bed,

she weeps,howls,she moans in pain.

The child sleeps on,an everlasting stupor,

the hollow chested young woman,grieving ,

she entrusts her to the burial man,

who came in for the night.