You handpicked the name Of our son A beautiful one A conception that never occurred No apologies not even a word But that name Was the sweetest I had ever heard
I grieve for our son Even though he was Just an idea I grieve for our son As if he were really here
Can we honor the life that comes Without honoring the life from Whence it came? When life becomes, Is she the widened legs of shame? For my own mother made me As an extension of her own pleasure I owe my blood To her sexuality For hers is the life From whence I came. And when we hold a child with high regard; Revere the blood that pushes it veins, Do we give the honor to its own heart Or do we thank the blood From whence we came?
And the angels wept for her She who gave the stars their shine She who kept the storms in line She who gave the gems their luster All the angels wept for her
And the shadows wept for her She who sang for all the ****** She for whom the church bells clanged She whose face was just a blur All the shadows wept for her
And the rainclouds wept for her She who walked on air and grace She who knew not sword nor mace She whose thoughts were all a stir All the rainclouds wept for her
And the angels wept for her She who is no longer here She whose voice you’ll never hear She whose name is now a slur All the angels wept for her