Encrypted woes

Oh slumber land already calls 
sleep grove. 
So it was leavened in the cup 
a depleted cow's milk, 
empty waiting 
mother of the cradle. 
The child gave up, 
the bosom of mother earth, 
reeds to swing 
drowned soul. 

That pain when grapnels 
drowned the boy. 
I am the current point 
never look can be. 
That does not evaporate out of the 
ever it is agony. 
No comfort to the time 
not my soul with joy 
Never burn incense. 

Encrypted grief, which 
someone something still remember. 
Beach reeds in the autumn 
sadly for me whispers.