An Alien Child Born To A Witch

An Alien Child Born To A Witch

In the quiet of a sterile room,

Where shadows clung like silent gloom,

A doctor, pale, with trembling breath,

Beheld a birth that spoke of death.

The witch, her gaze a secret well,

Had labored long through pain and hell,

And with a cry that pierced the night,

She brought forth life beneath dim light.

But when the afterbirth appeared,

The doctor froze — his mind was seared.

Not flesh alone, but something more,

A child form no doubt alien lore.

Silver veins like liquid glass,

A pulse that seemed to shift and pass,

Eyes unblinking, cold and wide,

A creature born from worlds denied.

The witch just smiled, her work was done,

A child of stars, a darkling sun.

And in that room, both cold and dim,

The doctor froze it smiled at him.

An alien form, both strange and wild,

The universe cradled in the witch’s child.

Truly a gift from the Mother ship up high

A alien born from another planet in the sky