Ballad to a Mother’s Heart
062404
glenmore bacarro
When a young lad visit his dear maiden,
He went to bent, kiss her delicate hand.
He asked the love he really long,
Knelt down and rendered a song.
The maiden stood and held the lad up,
With a smile she whispered her curse.
“Dear lad if you really love me…”said she.
“Bring your mother’s heart and offer to me.”
Without second thought the young lad left
With the promised love he took the bet.
He went home late with his mother’s worry.
He just smiled and he uttered his sorry.
As the silver moon hid by the frosty clouds,
The stars dimmed, the night seems so bad.
A young soul with a thirsty heart,
Hold a heart, dipping with blood.
With the prize he held at hands.
He ran wild through the darkness’ maze.
Wet not by tears but by blood, he run...run.
But he trembled and fell down.
This young lad cried with pain.
But still he holds the prize on his numb hand.
He shouted with agony tearing the darkness.
Alas! He thought of his mom.
Out of the dark below the ground,
A voice he heard so grace so kind.
“Stand Up!” the voice commands.
With fear the lad cried, finding the sound.
“Stand Up! Where it hurts, son?”
It was his mother’s heart.
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