Not Meant To Be

Thoughts are born, yet die thereafter, nothing more satisfying, than that of solemn touches of death... a child, a cursed blessing, A mother, A whored Vessel, no child into bringing, destroyed and defiled. Never meant to be, Left to finish what was started, Braving the cold, a womb-less warmth, lost to life’s virginity, seconds of breaths, left it dying, moments so short, yet extended toward eternity, An infant child, besmirched and left thoughtless, A child only born to be named death, Reaping the benifites of final breaths.