Baby’s dying in the snow
Suffocating in the snow
Baby’s lying in the rain
Slowly drowning in the rain
Baby’s murdered in the grass
Bleeding pools in the grass
Baby’s sinking in the sand
Gently downward in the sand
Baby’s melting in the mud
Dripping filth in the mud
Baby’s fighting in the stones
Breaking flesh in the stones
Baby’s thrashing in the dark
Outline quivering in the dark
Baby’s breathing in the sea
Basking, bleating in the sea
Baby’s burning in the sun
Crisping ashes in the sun
Baby’s up against the ice
All alone in the ice
Baby’s falling in the dirt
Coughing, sputtering in the dirt
Baby’s finished in the meadow
Stone cold in the meadow
Baby’s body, in the grave
Pale and small in the grave
Baby’s empty little coffin
Black, lace trimmed little coffin
Baby’s skin is a pale grey
Sunlight striking a pale grey
Baby’s living in her death
Breathing slowly in her death
Baby’s lost inside her mind
Hostage, prisoner in her mind
Baby’s lost in the forest
Frolicking frozen in the forest
Baby’s tears are made of ice
Crystalline sundrops of ice
Baby’s been dead
So very dead
For fifteen years
Such long, sorrowful years
Yet still she sings
Such songs she sings
A mystery to the world
Misconception of the world
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