By Crystin Chries
'The Cycle'
A child is born his mother fair,
A child of love his soul is bear,
Father fight to defend the state,
His life it seems is left to fate.
The mother sits alone and cries,
The father never knows her lies,
The men who sneak in at night,
The child can hear it all in sight.
A war is waged far away,
A letter comes home one day,
The father dead for weeks untold,
Mothers bed was never cold.
The boy grows up with all the hate,
The men his mother strives to sate,
His heart in years has turned to stone,
He turns to theft so he's not alone.
The constables chase his only joy,
He slips away the playful boy,
His father's place the badge does take,
His silly antics he vents his hate..
Years go past the boy has learned,
His youth has left his path is burned,
A coin payed for a womans joy,
He'll never know she has his boy..
Alone in a world his mothers call,
The child is loved her one and all,
Given joy she's never known,
The boy will grow into his own.
Never needing his father lost,
The boy takes his place and pays the cost,
The training goes into a stave,
Joins the constables to show he's brave.
His mother dies the pass of night,
Yet the boy will never lose her light,
He takes his troubles to the street,
Cleans it up and makes it neat.
One day his wife comes to tell,
Pats her stomach shows the swell,
With the joy he knew in his life,
The daughter will know husband and wife,
With both parents giving the city all,
She'll learn to heal her head held tall,
A fighters heart she'll one day find,
The wheel of time will always grind.