A Ghost

The child murdered its neck gashed

for a ritual of power in the depth of the forest

Horror breaks the eyes of the mother

No sound escapes the bloody lips anymore

and she dies

But guilt and hatred becloud her sight

so she doesn't find the bright haven

that takes sorrows away

Baffled she moves around, whimpering

Not heard; men dumb and blind

surround her

Centuries pass

The cries of the baby always there

Until a helpful hand shows her the light

to the silvery stream

to a new morning.