Father, I forgive you.
I thought I was strong
in the years you have been gone.
I toiled in a darkened opaque
just to get a glimpse of your face -
and in the end I still don't know you.
All the blunt barbs are stunted by time,
and its routine damage
sharpened a steely spine.

Father, forgive me.
For the only time you will ever see me
is when you crack open the skies;
I hope the fermented rays of light save you,
as you reside with the sputtering flames
of Hell.

"Mon pere, je vous oublie..."
in the era of blackness
and those rounds of numbness.
I will never know you well, my maker
and to you I died as a passing stranger.

Oh Father, I can't pick a feeling for you
and I thought I was strong.
In the end I was wrong.