And the wind has brought
Yet another grievous thought,
Thinking of the tiny babe
With no proper burial place
Unknown, unnamed
Tortured and betrayed
Instead of being cherished fruit
The helpless babe
Came to be a tortured slave
Instead of being in arms embraced
Had known the horror - gruesomeness
Of her mother's crimes
Mutilated and desecrated
The precious babe
Not found a welcoming place
Found untimely, merciless death
Treated and disposed of as a thing
With inestimable soul within
A refuse heap as burial place
Without seeing mother's face
Found no warm place
With a forgotten - battered face
In short time
Had known only
Other's brutal rejection and crime
And the wind has brought
Yet another too disturbing thought,
Calling for wrath to Heaven, thought.
