She travailed on their birth.
She rejoiced at their coming.
She watched them grow.
In much care.
In much love.
All she had was on them.
They were her joy.
They were her pride.
Her hope for the future.
Happiness of the present.
Then the wind brought them from the north.
Men with ruthless heart.
Wicked and evil.
Before her they cut them off the living.
They did not take her life for theirs.
They did not hear her plea of mercy.
Neither did her cry touched their hearts.
They slew them all.
Her heart became iced
Her soul drenched in sorrow.
Her joy were slain in sight of her.
She lost all that day and never came out of it.
All her memory was erased.
Except that of that moment.
She dwell in it but could not endure.
Her life crashed one morning in grieve when the pain of being motherless at old age came on her.