The child lies heavy for he does not exist.
He never really did in the first place.
A figment of my imagination and a Nordic curse.
Not given by a witch or the touch of a devil.
My mind breathes heavy like the stone memories it carries.
Somewhere in there a person carved the past.
I did it all for you (and you, and you).
So please care for the child.
Love it like it was real.
It's all I ever asked for.