Abandoned in the plains. i have fought my way. through the winter of my sadness. through the desert of my anger. and bereft. circumvention is mine. for a father's hand is weak. and his love is futile. i have ground my affection in gnashed teeth. and cast away a lifetime of lies. there's deception in my blood. and in the end you will drown in it. the loss of your first born son. not to death. but the things that you have done. i am the bastard child of a broken heart. and bereavement is all i call my own. forsaken by my blood. i have vanquished armies of men alone. your guidance was currency. your compassion: criticism. your love: abandonment. blackened memory fading. the stains they shine beneath. your compassion. your concern for glamour. stakes great pain in me. a union of mandrake: silent. symptomatic. a cycle complete. repetition is your poison. one adulterous hand. one hand on scripture. the smile of a debtor is in your face. the tongue of a traitor beneath it. you recognize your fear and turn your back to it. you coward. in a moment of clarity. stillborn is the air. our shoulders have become your bier. because you are dead inside. your austere voice and morale. merely a facade for your cowardice. in a home where you play the master. in truth you are the mere apprentice