I hear their cries in my ever warping dreams

That I'm never certain whether the mournful melody

That drifts its broken way into my burdened subconscious makes them nightmares


The wailing as what's meant to be beautiful is taken away under the guise of freedom,

As tears fall in a determined cascade from the eyes of those who are not deceived

What was not visible becomes painfully, brutally visible, its value crushed and mangled

The perpetrators hearts are blackened, a void sucking up what remains of their humanity

And sorrow pervades my very being


And the vulnerable acolytes who were influenced in their instability

Feel their chests deflate violently when they realize just what they've done

And the trauma and guilt set in because of their wrongdoings

Their haunted eyes darken daily

As they remember the cruelty of what they were willingly involved in


Their eyes narrow, and cheekbones protrude as evil thoughts invade

Their feet slip from the cool metal and they plummet,

All breath departs from their crumpled bodies,

Leaving them empty,

Just as their troubled hearts have been longing for


They only hope to escape the past mistakes, and could-have-beens that plague them

The cacophony of weeping, of tortured screams coming from those

Who could not defend themselves invade their minds

They are lost

And I cannot blame them


But if we are so eager to fight for those who can't,

And protect the defenseless, to give choices to those who are enslaved,

In that their choices are made for them,

Why then is this any different?


I can hear their blood crying out,

See them begging mercy for sins they did not commit

I can feel them aching to be forgiven,

Though they have not as of yet had the opportunity to do anything needing to be forgiven

They are pure, and done away with all the same

Their inexperienced lives are hacked to gory,

Stomach-turning, nausea inducing bits

Never given a chance to be anything but an inconvenience


Is this not the highest form of utter cruelty?

Waging war against those who are oblivious,

Unprepared with no way to fight back,

Through no fault of their own?

Those who are innocent sit in piles of corpses that rot away,

Steeping in their own blood as no one remembers them,

And no one mourns


And if I could change this one thing

Oh, God!


Would you change this one thing?

No more fragile flesh separated without warning from the safe home its been ensconced in.


Let it stop!

I don't want to bear the weight of their

Undeveloped, blameless souls any longer


Let them live

Cease ending their precious lives

Let abortion...fade away


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