Wicked Gift

I don’t know what I’m meant to say, To make this feeling go away, This aching pain and lonely love, For my daughter and son above. There little faces I can see, In my mind so vividly, Smeared with blood and crying loud, But this pain I can’t say aloud. I wish they could be at peace, Seated up in heavens feast, Not condemned to wonder on, For something they have not done. It seems to me that God is cruel, And there for He’s not fit to rule, To let my babes burn to dust, Because of their parents lust. I will save them if I can, Even if I’m asking Pan, To take my babes and make them sleep, Even if this makes me weep.