the cry

i hear the cry of the unborn,
awaiting its slaughter.
it beckons me to listen.

what world is this i seek
to be born into, it ponders;
that sees me as nothing but a tissue,
it breathes with sigh.

yet live must i continue to strive,
it declares with determination,
despite the rejection i face
from the unwelcoming mind.

i hear your call.
i can't stand a moment more
doing nothing knowing full well
my voice i can lend to you.