The Object Of Her Sight ...

Willing to share your gloom and glee,
I bound my eye, took a vow,
Shunning the world you can't see;
The mother on the edge, the wife loath,
Every time our son sought my view,
I spurned savouring his growth.
I prayed, everyday, that I may keep my word,
And my pleas seem to have been heard.
The pang, last night, almost rent my heart,
Before ebbing to weigh me down,
Stopping me from pulling my blindfold apart.
'It looks like you have had your inkling,
My Queen, your sight now has no object.
Our son's no more.' - wailed the King.