In the quiet of the room, where shadows dance,
I gaze upon my child, a fleeting glance,
Innocent yet imperfect, their face at birth,
My heart aches with a heaviness, a weight on earth.

Feeling as though divine intervention turned away,
Leaving us to navigate this path, day by day,
My soul shudders with a sense of forsaken grace,
In the mirror of my child’s innocent face.

Days filled with sorrow, like a river unbound,
In prayer, solace sought, in silence found,
Hoping against hope for a gentle touch,
To ease my child’s suffering, to mend, to clutch.

Their face, a canvas of stories untold,
In its imperfection, a beauty does unfold,
Yet the world can be cruel, unkind,
Leaving a parent’s heart shattered, left behind.

In the depths of despair, I turn to the divine,
Seeking answers in the whispers of a prayer line,
Hoping for a sign, a light in the dark,
To guide us through this painful arc.

In the hush of the night, in the break of dawn,
My faith wavers, then it holds on strong,
For in the eyes of my child, I see a spark,
A resilience that lights up the dark.

May the heavens hear my plea, my call,
To ease this suffering, to break this fall,
In the embrace of prayer, in the arms of love,
I find solace, strength, like wings of a dove.

Though my heart breaks, it also mends,
In the love for my child that never bends,
In the echoes of prayer, in the silent plea,
I find hope, I find peace, in the heart of me.