Don't Cry, Child

Be careful, my child,

This is how promises are made.

In the depths between the inhale and the exhale,

The future is forever altered.

I can not assure you that you are not losing your mind,

As you are surely losing yourself.

But be at peace knowing

to be bleeding on the edge of a broken world

Is a regeneration, not a condemning trait.

You, my dear, were born of glass

in an atmosphere covered in iron, encrusted in silk,

and plunged far beneath where the earth breathes.

Do be weary, young one,

Of the decisions to be made in the coming years

As the path you tread grays beneath your feet.