All Broken

They say that there are some mothers who do not--even cannot-- love their children. Perhaps they are right, but I cannot fathom it. I am a mother, The Mother, and I love all my children. I watch them, every single one, as they enter here. Some see me, and wonder about the Grey One, who watches from the shadows, and wonder for whom she is searching, for whom she weeps.

But ah, I weep for all my sons, all my daughters. Not because I have lost them: oh no, if they had escaped me, I should be glad. But one by one, all join me here. And it is not grief enough that they join me in the shadows, but I must know that I brought them here. Brought them into life, and sealed their fate, to end here....

Yet, for all that I love them, all of them have broken my heart. I am sometimes amazed that it is still so prone to pain. After all, it must be in so many pieces by now that there is nothing left to break! But perhaps it is only justice: after all, it is I who broke their hearts, their souls, their bodies. Mea culpa, domine, mea culpa!

[via Deluded Wine]