My Child; My Soul; My Murder

My child; My Soul; My Murder
I'm trying to rinse the blood from my hands
I'm trying to dry my weeping sorrows

Your body barley a human
Is burnt like Guy Folk's
Your little fingers; Caressing Gods hand
I'm sobbing; I'm a murderer

Murderer they chant in this cold hospital
The walls echo they know all to well
My stomach twists these knots
Yet my heart cuts my chest deep
Glass

Your eyes; There watching Shakespeare write
Your hands; paint with Van Gogh
Little child i left you even before; We met

James? You could have stood on Mount Everest
Elizabeth? You could have sang to the world
I will never know, i only taste the regret

My hands are stained with your blood
My tears; will pour forever

My Child; My Soul; My Murder
My womb lies empty
Yet i can feel you in my arms

And as i weep; I weep for you
The family we could have been

I am your Mother
You are my Child
Yet God chose to take you away

For my unborn baby
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