Hush now, she has tumbled from a bough,
A tattered cradle swaddles a bloodied brow
She is restless in eternal sleep,
Cleaving to heaven's empty keep.
Gently now, the sorrow fills her dreams,
A cold comfort within surreal scenes.
Angels can't bear her solemn despair,
But alas sweet chile no mortal seems to care.
I'll pray for you my sweet wee little one,
Condemning a devil for the evil done.
Oh please don't cry I hope you can see,
That this inner-child is a picture perfect me.
Incesting father has stolen a baby's breath,
Accursed to suffer an agonizing death.
He won't stop to pick up the tattered pieces,
Vulture-like he waits till the whimpering ceases.
Hush lil' babe, you weren't meant to die,
From 6 foot down I oft wonder why
Cradle close the soft ebbing light,
A tunnel up ahead, a beacon to the night.