The lungs of a mother are restricted at the hands of her burning son
The greenhouse that she sits in falls victim to unwelcome pests
She waits for the chance to breathe
She waits for the chance to thrive
Betrayal in the eyes of a mother
Is something she must naturally get over
Her instincts overwhelm her conscious
Even if it’s illogical
For her son is what she revolves
For her son is what she must aid
She is protected by her daughter
Luna, the defender of her crust
Keep the attacks at bay
Protect your dependent from her sons ruthless control
But the progression of time guarantees
They will both fall to him