Breed Me Not

In shadows cast by hopeful moons,
A tale unfolds, in tear-stained rooms.
A whispered wish, a silent plea,
Within the heart, a deep decree.

Ten days adrift, a phantom hope,
Conceived in dreams, an anchor's rope.
Yet cruel reality, a bitter sting,
As echoes of despair within you cling.

The toilet paper tells a tale,
Of dreams deferred, like ships set sail.
In pools of moonlight, sorrow's dance,
A yearning heart, denied romance.

Eleven months postpartum grace,
Aching arms that seek embrace.
Yet, in the mirror, reflection cold,
A story told, of dreams untold.

Light blood upon the canvas bare,
A palette painted in despair.
The canvas weeps, the colors fade,
In solitude, a soul is laid.

A purpose sought in life's embrace,
Within the womb, an empty space.
Yearning echoes, haunting cries,
In silent sorrow, the spirit lies.

No hopeful end to light the way,
Just shadows deep that seem to sway.
In the abyss, where dreams expire,
A mournful symphony, a dirge entire.

Oh, cruel fate, with callous hand,
A barren landscape, dreams unplanned.
No solace found in words or rhyme,
A requiem for a fleeting time.

So let the tears fall, unrestrained,
In the garden of despair, unchained.
For in this moment, sorrow weaves,
A tapestry of unfulfilled dreams.