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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required For the day had come that the daughter of one, now the cost of her love mothers youngest born son, would declare her unfit as a parent and mother for not having picked one child over the other. With her ignorant tongue and words desperately sung, she cried out her plea, “let her brother be hung!” That his memory be cast to a far away place, that this be the last mother sees his sweet face. This daughter of one wanted something undone, a promiscuous wild and the shame it’s become. Crying victim and loss she’d deflect all the blame but what of the cost of this dangerous game? A heart filled with pride and so desperate to hide, she’d turn on her mother in a cosmic collide. Hatcheting arteries, slicing through veins, gone too far to see somewhere past all the pain. Then the day did come for the daughter of one to now be a mother for birthing a son. There finding a love unlike any she’d known as if God from above blessed the seed she had sown. Her blessing unknown was the way she was shown the depth of the pain from her ugliness grown. Should anyone ask her to give up her son is something she now knows just couldn’t be done. Now the daughter of one as a mother with son was desperately searching the way of undone, finding her sacrifice too much to bear scars of her angry pride thickened with wear. Then the day did come when the daughter of one reached out her hand for her mother to come, but left decimated, besmirched and defamed, she’d been reincarnated from pieces remained. “Oh mother of mine I have squandered our time. come let us drink of the raspberry wine” but her soul had been hollowed, not just her heart, leaving less than a token of love to impart. What has become of the daughter of one, from her dark naked truth of the things she had done? Her castaway mother had learned to move on with a heart something other, her mother was gone. Karma does NOT have a reputation for being kind to those willing to sacrifice their own mother.
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