Mourning for Babies…

In moonlit nights
The seeds they fell
All over the place
Of many, many colors
Little plants – they made

Till Hand it came
And killed them all
And said to valley
Whose sons are these?
I wonder – it said

In echoes of plants
Of dying things
Like vibes in air
It just hung on
In shrinking size

With heavy, heavy heart
The mother held on
Trying hard to cradle
Askance she looked
With tears in eyes

Blind Man saw not
With rage cold, cold
“Just lies – all lies”
He killed then all
The flowering weeds

Nor paused to ask
If father could be
Not trivial thing
So hard it dies
The word that bleeds…