Every loss breaks the heart,
No one wants to be apart,
From those they love and adore,
Who they will see no more,
But other losses are understood,
Other losses don’t leave memories of running blood,
For who I mourn was ripped away,
Before I had I a chance to say,
How I loved them so very much,
How I appreciated every touch,
Their sounds around the house,
And how now I cannot stand it being as quiet as a mouse,
I beg the gods to bring back the noise,
To bring me back my girls and boys,
Stolen from me like a thief in the night,
Erased forever from my sight,
My children who I cradled at birth,
Who gave my life a precious worth,
Then brutally ripped from my love,
As I screamed to the heavens a primal roar to all above,
To take me from this despair,
In land where nobody seems to care,
That had my lands been just for mine,
My children would be healthy and doing just fine,
They’d be in the garden playing outside,
They’d be learning and singing full of pride,
Their smiles would lighten my every day,
But now I am in eternal hell, because I had to pay,
The price for all the wretched cowards,
Who forced this upon me from their ivory towers,
Who created this hell which stole my life,
Who opened our borders and offered the knife,
To slice away at all we have,
Then scowl at me that I am bad,
Bad to cry and bad to mourn,
To never over-come the loss of those who are born,
To the people of our lands,
Where our grieving is practically banned,
Because whilst everyone else kneels at the graves,
I cannot over-come, how mine could have been saved,
And whilst others are comforted and shown mercy too,
I weep in the shadows, silent and blue,
Looking at the people in bewildered shock,
As they walk right past me as one heartless block,
They walk past the roads of murderous deaths,
They walk through the buildings and clutch to what’s left,
Never looking at what I lost,
My children’s lives are worthless to them, they’re just ignored and tossed,
To the side, as here I sit in the dark and cry,
In my house of silence, with no goodbye,
If only I chose something different that day,
My babies wouldn’t have had to pay,
For the crimes of all the wretched cowards,
Hurting more and more children by the hour,
And so I suffer until my last breath,
I have nothing now. I have nothing left.
And not even old photos can ease the pain,
Nothing can ever be the same,
Because the images will not go away,
The torturous images are here to stay,
It wasn’t nature who caused their death,
It was a choice by cowards. It is their theft!
Their theft of my children! Their theft of my life!
The theft of their futures so bright!
And now all I see is blood and despair,
And the screams and the bodies thrown up in the air,
The shattered pieces and plunge of the knife!
Oh God just take me from this hell of a life!
So...
who cares? Who cares what happened to me?
In this grotesque so-called land of the free?
Where the only freedom which I see,
Is the freedom to steal absolutely everything, from me!
Everyone suffers in loss and grief,
But when the loss is not by nature, when cowards bury them underneath,
I cannot over-come it. And I shall dig at those graves,
To only touch them one more time,
And beg their forgiveness that I couldn’t save,
To save them from the evil which dwells,
Amongst us all in this living hell,
And so I walk in the shadows alone,
In the darkness of my empty home,
In only suffering and torment forever,
Begging the gods for us to be together,
To be near their scent just one more time,
Those children were precious! Those children were mine!
And nature, nature didn’t steal them from me!
It was the cowards! It was these, so-called lands of the free!
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