David Wakeling

The Battle and the Baby

The despairing battle between those who love,
And the wolves that scratch at the door.
Breaks their universe into pieces on the floor.

The dark and evil loneliness fogs in and the rope is tied to the tree,
The neck is readied and the heart is almost defeated by misery.

But the horror of the eternal nightmare fades just when it all seems too immense,
When you look into a new-born babies eyes and it somehow, all makes sense.