Mortal Stain
Freya dreams of the womb that cradled her
Of a mother who loved and always cared
Abandoned by family and due to give birth
Young Freya is alone, forgotten, and scared
The baby positioned inside her womb
But the place Freya lives is damned on this earth
In time it will be nothing more than her tomb
But a new life is moving near to its birth
Warsaw is torn by the bitterest war
And the raging war machine increases
The young woman hides behind an old door
As the bombs blast Warsaw into pieces
Freya covers her ears from the terrible sound
The dark legions of the Reich march on
She hides in a cellar underground
Freedom, and her free will is gone
Flames consume the burning houses
Freya grips her stomach and begins to scream
Her water breaks but never douses
The birth of new life and new dreams
But the nature of the fanatic’s mind
Has signed a warrant for their slaughter
For a Jewish mother and her child
Can never raise a son or daughter
Freya cries this night and cradles him
Her newborn boy with deep blue eyes
The noise outside, the ghastly din
Do not hide young Freya’s loving sighs
But the war it rages and crushes love
And the innocence of the child she bore
His gentle touch and gurgling tone
Are threatened by the hatred at the door
The monstrous will of men unknown
Freya’s house in darkness the war draws near
She wraps a blanket like a shroud
To hide the newborn and each tear
And listens as he screams out loud
Waiting for the brutal soldier
Ordered by a cruel regime
To take her baby before he’s older
Commit an act that is obscene
But there is deep love beneath this roof
And Freya loves her little child
Perhaps he need not know the truth?
Being freshly born and not defiled
That other sons they may destroy
Although they never kill a mother’s love
And as she kissed her little boy
Ignoring the fires up above
Freya knew in death that there is life
Her blue-eyed baby he would not die
She would protect him from this war’s strife
And his soul would rise up to the sky
Freya kissed his cheek and stroked his chin
A beautiful boy, a mother’s pride
She comforted him from mortal sin
Held him tightly at her side
In time she learned to hold his breath
And tearfully looked into his eyes
In love she choked her child to death
Cradled him at his demise
His lifeless form is free from pain
But the hoards of hell are drawing in
Freya’s hands now bear the mortal stain
Another measure of their sin.
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