The mists of the forest shimmered in the early morning sun
A monster I was shed as my form returned
Staring in awe at the glow of a conquering goddess
Whose smile eclipsed the woodland autumn shine
To my knees I fell as she cradled misshapen physique
Nights still destroying my essence
Who be thee I cried into her bosom
In death you shall know
This poem was written by my son Brooke Miller-Osborne and I have published it here for the first time