In her absence
facts came alive so bold,
your enabler my son
broke away from the hold.
She lived,
yes she lived projecting pain,
truth so hidden comes back to reign.
Old victims lost, mind bemused,
reality highly misconstrued.
Heads in a vice
the rage of genius
forsake them thrice
this brain
this mind
this precious tool,
in lack one rests like the oldest fool.
She's gone
no words
no hope
does one throw up the thickest rope.
A mothers shield
protection of the rarest steel.
Words proclaimed
she refused to hear,
her bosom soft
rest down his ear.
Praise, yes praise from a single voice
a stand so held
only a mother's choice.
She roared like a tiger
and could sting like a bee,
don't cross the path
of old victory.
poor baby
poor child
poor man
who's left to carry him or hold his hand.
Listen!
to the words of a choir sing,
hear the tintinnabulation as bells ring.
As the grave opens wide with a slow embrace
a mother waves
weeping long held tears.
Siblings cry out
standing in fear,
O gracious Lord
what will become of him
this victim of one of the oldest sins.
A mother's love
turned to pain
no child, no child
will ever gain.
Written by: Melvina Germain
Date: July 27/2015
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Truly, there are many sons on earth who leave their mothers in agony and pain.