Recently, my Family learned that the Dreamer’s Father had passed away. Though the two of them were estranged, his death still brought on many mixed emotions for all of us. This poem is my attempt to put my own feelings into words.
The feelings for you are deep sadness now.
Hearts buried and forgotten within the
everlasting heat of the Desert, and to
damn your own son broke all our Hearts.
Every time I see your symbols now I flinch,
a small reminder of the hurt, the manipulation,
that you were only there when we had broken
Hearts. You were never there for joy, you were
only there for sorrow, for strife, or for the
forgery of so-called “strength” in brutal images of
steel swords, blood, and violence. There were few
times you celebrated with us, you always felt like
redemption in sadness, a Heart heavy with what you called
eternal Love. I syncritized you with Christ, but it was
never to that extent, and I feel horror at your manner of
going from this world to whatever afterlife awaits a god.
There are many things I would say to you, if I had a chance
hour sitting with you again. I would ask why you decided
in deceit and manipulation, why your broke your son’s Heart
never mind your reaction to his trauma. I would ask about
the sister that I lost, demand justice for her, because yes myths
have symbolism, but you could have done anything else. Strength
equaled pain with you, equaled broken Hearts and pushing me until
daylight broke. You claimed to love me, that I was like another son to you,
except my Spouse is shaking as I type this, and I find my anger rising with each
scream from nightmares reoccurring. What affection I felt for you is gone
even though I know you passed away in agony, even you did not deserve so
rare and brutal a death. I am sorry. I miss you, but my feelings are so mixed
that I don’t know if I mourn you, or who I knew you to be before it ended in tears.