I was your mother, as much as anyone.
There is no other woman who would claim you as a son.
Child silent as the wood, but not as wise,
Your father never could do wrong in your eyes.
So I remained behind, while you grew up and left,
Coming home to find what you called your birthright’s theft.
You fool! You don’t know the choice we faced.
To watch our fates unspool, and all of us disgraced.
I did what I thought best, and that’s no lie.
O child of my breast, why do you want to die?