I just want my baby back
She says. The black
Dress contrasts against
Paleness of her haunted face. Angst
Is here. Grief to the brim.
The colour of her life dim
With the death of babe and all.
The words will fall
On deaf ears.
The age-old fears
Have been
Fulfilled that once were seen
In nightly haunts
Or whispered taunts.
My baby back to me,
She moans, to be
In arms too empty now.
She limps somehow
Through hymn and prayer
And coffin lay, with stare
Across far mountainside
To see the face of she that died.
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