Pain was echoing in his sodden blue eyes
the harrowing mother withdrew her prize
now quiet and content the child lies
neither breathing nor leering through his sodden blue eyes
there was no fright
not even slightly disguised
as the child waits for his father to arrive

the father arrived in his sodden blue car
twiching and singing, he had been at the bar
in the december rain, he locks the car
knowing that his kid had not been up to par
there can be no noise
not by far
as evil errupts silhouetting his scars

the weeping child weeps alone
in fear of his parents coming home
his signing parents merry and free
their mood changing abruptly
there was no mess, as sterile as can be
the fear of death confounds me
"timor mortis conturbat me"
is what he said
that night before bed