They weep for children lost, for bairns that were not allowed one breath of sun-filled air. They weep profusely now—but then? Then, with understanding darkened, it was they who chose the knife. It was they who chose to end the life within that held such promise . . . but now they weep.
No one told them that such pain awaited them, pain that claws into the soul. No one told them of the consequence that comes when mothers-dear end the life that they were meant to nurture. But it comes. It always comes eventually. Their conscience will not have it any other way.
If only they'd been told the truth.
Artwork: Rachel Weeping For Her Children © Stephen Gjertson