In the hush of the birthing room, a cry breaks the air,
My child enters the world, a sight so rare,
But as I gaze upon their form, my heart filled with dread,
Tears stream down my cheeks as I see the deformity widespread.

A devil-like visage, a twist of fate unkind,
In my arms, my precious child, a sight that binds,
Heartbroken, I weep for the suffering they’ll endure,
Praying desperately for a miracle, a divine cure.

Their tiny fingers, their eyes so innocent and bright,
Yet marred by a deformity that dims the light,
I hold them close, feeling a love so deep,
As I whisper prayers for their pain to sleep.

In the depths of despair, I plead to the divine,
To intervene, to ease this anguish of mine,
To lift this burden from my child’s fragile frame,
And grant them solace, a life free of shame.

As I cradle my little one in the quiet of the night,
I feel a glimmer of hope amidst the plight,
Their presence a beacon of strength and grace,
In their eyes, I see a reflection of love’s embrace.

Through the tears and the fears that cloud my sight,
I vow to stand by them, to champion their fight,
To shower them with love, to protect and defend,
In their journey ahead, my unwavering love I’ll extend.

So I weep and I pray for a brighter tomorrow,
For my child born with a burden to borrow,
Hoping against hope for a miracle to mend,
For divine intervention to bring their suffering to an end.