Mystique of The Womb

A convoluted, damning curse Placed on us by our ancestors Graceless birthmark chiselled on the forehead A worthless garden one cannot but tend But for some, an ornament to treasure A pool of long-lasting peace and pleasure Was it the hand of Fate or touch of Providence Is mortal man the root of the difference? Nature's blind womb branded us siblings Tied with a three-fold bloody umbilicus Decision's choice makes us brothers - no strings Freewill, empathy and love make the rules.