Justice Will Come

It is morganatic, woman; and so you look forlorn
Now that your mate is dead and gone
Leaving you and your children without a claim
To his name.
Without a deed to his land,
How can you feed your poor children? Your heart can’t understand.
But it is quite lucid that you are a slave
And everything you had is now in the grave.
Not even a cup of tea is left to thee.
You have no place in society.
Your case is but a mystery.
Your mark is left in history.
You need not have clairaudience to hear what has been said.
You and he were never wed.
You bore him children, so in the eyes of God you were his bride;
But the thoughts of God and man are apart both far and wide.
What of your future? You now wonder,
Since Death has put your relationship asunder.
It is absconded, saying you and he
Never was and will never be.
You have no station in this life,
So you will never be considered his wife,
Only his property, to be disposed of in his will.
Yes, I know why you are ill.
But hold your head up and have no regret.
In time, dear, justice will come to you yet.