Updated: Jan 21, 2018
When one by one, you bury each of your children; with all the love you thought you could bring up you are faced with lying them into a grave; in the ground. You begin trying to make some music, at least, with the hollow sound it makes inside your heart’s quiet house, each time, another child is brought to term and then laid down into the earth.
But these pale songs are a desperate attempt to offer the world something from this barren womb. Damned to bear offspring that are not equipped to live and you cannot provide for; how silent become, then, the songs you were adored for.