Once upon a time in a far away place,
there lived a brown haired woman with a little round face.
She was not gifted when it came to hight,
but her spirit was fierce, as dark as night.
In her chamber she fought the one she bore,
she screamed and she cried as she dropped to the floor.
She ached with betrayal and felt defeated,
she yearned to understand why she had been mistreated.
She struggled with her memory as to where she went wrong,
she thought she had taught the young one to always be strong.
The young one is now blinded with words that slice,
why has she chosen this way of life?
If life’s dangers were only the young ones fears,
the elder may not have shed as many tears.
Yet the young one has bore a child of her own,
just A babe herself, barely grown.
Her youth is lost in her newborns eyes,
filled with terror, she cannot hear her own cries.
Thrashing and cursing the young one snaps at my throat,
my instincts are to wrap her in the warmth of my cloak.
I cannot alter nor remove these thorns on her path,
twisting and wriggling, I consume here wrath.
The young one will come to know my plight,
only till then will she learn my reasons to fight.
While my heart grows week and my will yearns to end,
for the young ones happiness I will never cease to defend!