Life is a gift, given in trust - like a child. This were the words of Anne Morrow Lindbergh.
Mi lord,I'm shivering like I caught a cold.it's mildy past mid day and I'm hiding under my blanket.
The drowning sounds of the siren echoes I'm playing fink looking to closely.
What just happened? She died.
She died at least so I heard.At child labour,the curse of God.where's the devils hand?
She tried seven times successed twice..two beautiful girls mi lord, the other five? Well we'll never know how beautiful...they died at the moment of hope.. Picture that, mi lord, a Man waiting to be called Daddy and told every single time..We lost the Baby..
never getting the chance to name it..it...."it" is forever it's identity
Reduced to nothing because it was cheated of life...
He who gives life and takes it away where's the devil's hand?
I'm shivering I'm shaking because this time..
Daddy got news today in the waiting room that mummy got tired..too tired she couldn't make it neither could Junior.
My eyes bleed because her smile was so bright and her teasing is forever encrypted in my memory...
Mi lord, I'm sick in my stomach because I'm void of emotions.And my brain pants out of exhaustion.no legal term or formation can make sense of this because they shall deliver like the Hebrew women after the King was nailed.Where is the devils hand in this?
Death is life to those who believe, well life is Death to those left behind.Sentenced to an agony and depressed loneliness.wheres the devils hand?
Is it perhaps in the mystery of HIS divine wisdom?
Or in the unabortive conceptions of my thoughts?