Oh Mother Mildred


Oh, you see the iris bloom.
Then, a baby is born.
Such a beauty,
Isn't he?
You looked back to the purple iris,
But it's now dead.
The flower caused us nothing but doom.
Oh Mother Mildred what have you done?
Your once fruitful lips have finally thinned out.
Your once lavish locks now not worthy of my praise.
I see you hide behind corners with a pout.
To be what you are now,
Would cause me to loose my sanity.
The disheveled shirt on your back,
Doesn't keep that cold, green body of yours warm enough.
Your once attractive, slim figure,
Now like a cow's.
Oh Mother Mildred what have you done?
The baby you bore,
Does not celebrate life with humans.
He only dances with boars.
You and your child are nothing to humans.
Not now nor ever.
Please, I beg thy.
Please acquit your hatred for us.

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