She sits beside her grave,
flowers in her hand.
knife in her pocket.
She cries as she lays down,
beside her baby girl
made out of hate
made out of
but her baby girl, nevertheless
once religious, is this Gods test?
If he is merciful,
he should understand...
a death commited;
by ones own hand.
to die beside her baby girl,
is the only option,
so she lies.
undigs her grave and watches her.
She gets down in too deep, her girl to her chest.
Knife in her heart.
In peace i hope you rest.
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