For Father, No Tears

once, i wanted to be like him
to speak like him
control a crowd with my words like him,
rain down mesmerizing sounds like him
make women cry, with my voice like him
but now i'd say...the sound of my fathers death will bring no tears from me
nor will i rejoice
rather, it will probably be as Christ breathed at the end...it is finished
for truly his living tortures me
the snake insinuates himself, winding into and around my days and my nights
forked tongue symbolizing the divergent paths of my feelings for him
i, never loved him, for that would require a bond that his absence made
unforgeable
but i did idolize him
he was strong, intelligent, respected, walked proudly and had a voice that
that could fill the room like music
and once, i wanted to be like him
could see myself: arms wide, face glowing, voice rumbling
spreading words that captured the mind and uplifted the spirit
helping to bring tears of joy to others
but then...but then i learned of the monster that wells within the man and
was undone
hurt, disappointed and disillusioned, i distanced myself and disavowed any
affiliation
though once i wanted to be like him:
now, anger and disgust fill me when he intrudes into my thoughts
and i'm reminded that i, look like him, that i, walk like him and i have to fight
to make my voice not sound like him
somedays i think how much better my life would be
if the good rev were 'not so' but like the chaff that the wind driveth away
though once i wanted to be like him
but who knows
who knows how his demons overcame his higher desires
maybe with great gifts come such terrible burdens that one's search for an
outlet makes him vulnerable to the cauldron of voices within
maybe even he hated that which he became on haunted nights
so maybe, when that day comes:
when his soul is driven from his earthly flesh
when the darkness drags him down to the depths
when his fading howl, pierces the air
maybe too, my ill thoughts will dissipate
and i can...get down on my knees again
and ask, that he be forgiven
i can...get down on my knees again
and ask, that i be forgiven
for hating
him...who once i wanted to be like.

shadowofperfection

love your work.

SIMON

No bullshi!ting,that was good.