The grief that splits a parent’s soul
Is of all loss the most forlorn,
An anguish far too deep for tears
to ease the death of their firstborn.

To lay a babe in earth’s embrace
No mother should be made to do,
Nor father yet; to valkyre’s wings
We should all have passed long before you.

Our heart, our soul, now grieve
For each in turn held you close,
And emptiness they now contain.
With every morn, We mourn anew.

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