Round and smiling with elation, her child will be here soon.
9 months spent in anticipation, who could forsee the doom.

An infant born soon after.
The slightest breath, has left her.
She's not in there any more.
She's left her mother and this world, to swim shores in heaven not swam before.

The mother touches her abdomen, it's hollow.
Her arms are void of love.
She's realizing it's hard to fathom, she's an angel up above.

Why must it have been this way? To the skies she cries.
Why is it her angel's gone, and not beside her mother she lies?

No one can aswer her.
A pale infant haunts her.

She feels not like a mother, just a hollow piece of flesh.
Where fraility breeds sorrow and a newfound bitterness.

No sky looks as blue, no sea quite as green.
Her hearing's now poorer, sight's not as keen.

Why does she have an angel, because now she is alone.
No one to hold her either, no place to call her own.
She's buried now with guilt, that she couldn't do more.
Instead her womb has failed her heart, which she has failed once more.

A hollow mother wollowing in self-loathing and regret.
It's all she'll ever know forever. She can't get over it.
The hollow weeping willow, dampened and decayed.
Until her heart just gives out from feeling so betrayed.

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