I know I know I should not miss you so, but mother of me, I do. Your pained breaths that rasp'd and reverberated in your rusted iron tomb... The blood of your breast that nourish'd me and warmed me in its caress, when corpse and cruelty were all I witnessed...
Mother, mother... Mother of me,
I know I know you would hate me so, and mother of me, I do too. But I would not feel, not think, not dream, were it not for you in my rusted iron womb... Your tortured love brought me to this war, that I could take the heart of another, and need you no more.
Mother, mother... Mother of me,
I know I know your thoughts had left you long ago, and mother of me, I will never truly know.
But I hope it redeems my life even a slight, when I cried...