She wandered there listening to an unborn lullaby
as the silent song of misery too pitched high to be heard cried.
Was this the fate chosen or forced? she pondered inside
Is destiny a lie, a word made by man?
To motivate or to smile?

She picked her hair back, the song has yet to soothe;
it slowly churned to a mad man’s hymn.
As slick and sleek as the devils voice
as strong and black as the serpents heart
as twisted and knotted as the foul angel's soul

She wandered there listening to an unborn lullaby
in a cavernous sanctuary where time slowed tenfold.
Kindred spirits frail and broken lie within
the carcass of a fowl who's destiny is no less
and none the more there.

She was broken and tied
she eroded, shriveled,
scarred not on body but mind and soul,
a true wound you cannot heal.
She was a bearer of life now living and lifeless

She heard the shepherd grow close.
she dragged her hollow
she clenched her belly and in a tear
"Father, I have sinned."

"Fear not dear child, for the flock shan't know.
An action as ugly as sin needs as little healing as telling
but guidance to kindle the fire once there."
And with it, she found hope.

She placed her hand upon her gut,
And with a shook of the shepherds head
“Every action has a consequence, every consequence affects the soul.
But sins, while not forgotten, shall be forgiven.
Your sin was no less than free will.”

She sat down, listening to an unborn lullaby
as a shepherd hath failed to guide her, but rather her child.
Time can mend the bloody wounds of bone but not the carvings of bark
And this one engraved itself in the heart and womb. And with it she must live on.



Oh right, the printer. Uhm, it refuses to connect to WiFi, and there is no cord to connect to individual computers.