Mother's song, her lullaby,
Cradled close, kept safe inside.
Weaving images into dreams,
As silence settles, Mother sings.
Cherish you as golden light,
Pure, umblemished within my sight.
Sacred hands, to heal with touch,
Gone from me now, it hurts so much...
Mommy, please take away this pain,
It cripples me, my soul is stained.
Nightmares steal my sleeping mind,
And images of you are harder to find.
Mommy, why does it hurt so much?
All I want is that perfect touch...
Fingers warm with tender truths,
Guiding, shaping my innocence, my youth.
Mommy, I hope I've made you proud,
That you can hear me if I yell real loud,
That you can see me if I stand tall.
Mommy, who will cradle me when I fall?
Mother's song, her lullaby,
I drift to sleep, I hear her sigh.
Weaving images into my dreams,
As silence settles, Mother sings.
~Chenin Camille -01- (For my mother)
