A Mother's Sorrow and Revenge

Her face is stained with the crystal shards of her tears.
She burrows her face in her hands,
Her shoulders shake as she sobs.
"My son," she cries in a muffled strain.
"So innocent, too young for his end to be now."
The people are in horror-struck silence, they watch without speaking.
All is quiet but the wind howling in her ears-
And the dying sound of her son's screams fading in the twilight.
She looks up, her face worn and scarred with her tears.
She picks up her son, now bathed in crimson, her beautiful son
Dead now, yet the vitality still glows in his cheeks.
"Why?" she asks the stoned faces around her. "Why my boy?"
They do not answer but shudder from her and look away.
She cradles his little lifeless form with a moan.
"My son! My son!" she cries from the depth of a mother's broken heart.
The wind whips her crystal shards into the darling face of her son.
Splattering the droplets into the crimson tide around his face.
To her, he is beautiful still, he is her son, her only love.
"My son, I will join you one day," she says to him setting him down-
Into the scarlet curtain around him.
She stands now and looks down at him.
The people still say nothing.
Then she looks at them, her face is now filled with a calm sort of rage.
She is the eye of a hurricane, the arch of a tidal wave.
"You have slain my boy, and only the heavens above can punish you," she
says.
Her voice is steady as with the cool aloofness of her eyes.
She gives a last look at her son,
And walks away.
The wind whips the last of her tears far behind her, as with her son.
Gone now, but never forgotten.