Apprehensive footsteps, slipping on washed-out glass,
Fragile legs, shattered months gone past.
Embrace her, lift her, cascading in the shadows,
Trembling, warm beating, sitting frozen in black snow.
Walking on wood, lost in the rings,
Silver sitting alone, on the window sill.
Perverse representation of a love made of stone,
Mutual hatred of the lost one, now you feel at home.
How is he surviving with the bruises on his chest?
While is father breaks to hide, when he knows he’s at his best.
Strangled, thrown and beaten, in our unsurpassed dream,
His nightmare of reality, how much better can it seem?
No mislaid remembrance of the torture, but his heart still bleeds for him.
Commorancy safe and warm, a preference of his.
With evil as his role model, you run tears as long as you can,
He’s your son but you hate him, because he chose his dad.
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