A mother gives birth to a wailing ball, Hairless with a few bones. In the dark of the night, the creature’s head glows, Its crying face visible from a bloom. The candlelight is passed around, The creature is fed some berries; oh mound. Nobody dares to speak a word. The creature’s charmspeak washes over them. Yet in the dark, A monster lurches forward. The cries of the creature only echo, From the depths of the shadows. The mother protects the creature, But the monster grabs it like a miniature figurine. It is nothing for the monster, hard work for the mother, Yet she still looks at the monster with a glare. She desires motherhood, her greatest wish. Never letting that dream slip by, She lunges forward, grabs her child. Her eyes bore into the monster; tells it who she is. The monster’s eyes widen in deep fear, Realisation pours over it; the amusement dies. The flame flickers all the time. Motherhood is the strongest power, Never letting others take that power.
