* * *
Like the thorn that has grown wild
In hope to help, I killed the child
The Fates they toy, the Fates they play
To this world they'll let me stay
Born again where once I stood
Not flesh and blood but living wood
Bathed in blood, crowned in red
The Fates, their ego has been fed
A granted wish, bound in blood
Giftwrapped in a tearful flood