With grace my mother can you play the harp

Like an angel to a saint

I feel so lonely the loved falling far from grasp



Dei gratia,

heal the wounds that cut so deep

To never cease feeling such misery, so real

To utter with a lisp, so subtle

Ab initio ad finem



I kiss your forehead

You clasp to my palms

The uterus from which gave birth

Stares withered and sopine

Hide the cries you so hear

Stripping you so naked

Wipe the sweat from your brow

Weeping to a given drought



The shrouding of the light

Death is your god send

Upon your final breath the skin upon my arm rigours

Deus misereatur de profundis quantum libet

Taedium vitae esto perpetua