I know not where she is
Or what has become of her
She was a bonny little baby
When I left her a decade ago.

Without a choice, without a voice
I was dragged by a grubby looking man
He told me I was under arrest
For what reason, I then, did not understand.

My husband, who was a General
Was shot in the head, I was told
For he had shared with the enemy
Secrets of the Country’s gold.

To bear the penalty for no fault of mine
Seemed to me totally unfair
But then I stopped to ask myself
‘Was justice ever there?’

I left my crying infant
To come and live in this poor cell
With no means of subsistence
I soon began to hear deaths knell.

Nothing seemed to move me
Except the dire imagination
That brought to mine eyes a pitiful picture
Of my doting young daughter.

How would I break free and return to her world
Will I ever see her again, I wondered.
For the prison doors hold me back
And the strength to break the iron chains, I lack.

What is this life? What is this trial?
I cannot really tell
What is this test of a mother’s love?
In this dark, lonely cell

As the night closes in, I see no stars
There is no light to illuminate this dingy spot
I then realize that happiness and freedom were but a fairy tale
And injustice, a harsh reality, of some sort.