THE UNBORN

This day of our age, the day of a child unborn. This is it's tale:

One year ago, a child was never born. It's life was terminated before it ever reached the light of day. The story was kept and never told, until one day in the fall in 1999. The story was told, and eyes were darkened by the sins of the father and his cruelty and sadness of the mother, the mother of the unborn. The mother told the tale to the Companion, and the Companion swore loyalty and trust.

Nearly a year it now is, and will come to pass, and these are the scenes in this age: The father of the unborn, not knowing, as he has long since forgotten, not aware of this day to pass. The mother of the unborn, is very aware of this day and its sins, but not willing to accept the weight of the past.

But on this day, one pair of eyes stare at the sky, and wonder about the fate of the mortals. One pair of eyes are wet from tears. One says a silent prayer to the soul of the unborn, as the tears fall, and the sky turns gray as steel, and opens it's gates and cries with me. The Companion cries where no one else does, since I remember the tears of the mother, the harshness of the father, and the unopened eyes of the unborn child, to have been nearly one year old, if time had come to pass.

Say a prayer to the unborn on this day, as no one else will remember.