Moon child

Smeared all over of red,
the warmth of the womb just lost
tiny, vile and naked,
lay crying an eve's kind

naive to move the world,
and just the night to listen;
she cried aloud for the breasts
she would never live to moisten.

Winters soaked her lone linen,
her blood drenched her skin;
while she savored her own self,
the cries grew weaker and was gone.

The slashing of the winds ceased
as her cries calmed down to shudders;
the clouds above struck wild
to a drizzle, pelting the leaves.

the skies seemed to wince in pain,
as the rains came harder
cleansing her naked skin
as she lay still,cold and calm