A fear forms I cannot name Pulsing in waves of sine, In gaunt rooms, in pallid light And flatlines In faith I drank as from a spring, Yet a bane makes itself in me, And thirsts for the very things I despise Though by no choice of mine, I see through my mother's eyes. I look to a newer world With the sunrise Where birthrights endow; Not to burden and bear, But bless and bestow, And baptize as heirs But I'd be received with sighs As the bane of my mother's pride; As a stranger inside her womb, Yet outside.