Bring me those born from your loin.
Those who have nested in your womb.
Those you bore as your life’s fruit.
Bring me the child you cherish so.
Gift them to me so that I may grow.
I am the monster you feed at night.
I am the demon that your fear.
I am the angel you call out to.
When you have nothing left of belief.
When all you seek is release.
I am the divine that you hold sacred.
I am the sacrilege that you despise.
I am the temple of sacrifice.
When you have nothing left to give.
When all you seek is to live.
Bring me those born from your loin.
Those who have nested in your womb.
Those you bore as your life’s fruit.
Bring me the child you’d so easily let go.
Gift them to me so that you may grow.
Mathew James Ford 