Behold The Mother With Her Newborn Child
Behold The Mother With Her Newborn Child!
An Icon Of A Hope That Never Dies.
An Icon Of A Hope That Never Dies.
Death May Label All We Cherish Lies,
Yet This Love Lies Too Deep To Be Defiled.
Yet This Love Lies Too Deep To Be Defiled.
We Clear An Inner Field Where Fate Has Smiled,
Letting Play The Pleasures Of Surmise,
Letting Play The Pleasures Of Surmise,
Holding Back All Contrary Replies,
As Though Our Thoughts Might Turn The Winters Mild.
As Though Our Thoughts Might Turn The Winters Mild.
Despite The Well-Known Travesties Of Time,
Each Time A Child Is Born We Dream Anew,
Each Time A Child Is Born We Dream Anew,
For Only Thus Our Losses Are Regained.
Though We Must Share The Destiny Of Slime,
Though We Must Share The Destiny Of Slime,
No Passion In Our Palette Is More True
Than That Which Cradles Innocence Unstained
Than That Which Cradles Innocence Unstained
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Posted by: Murli dhar Gupta <mdguptabpl@gmail.com>
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