Of a Child

My child, lost in the clutches of the Evil One - believing that you must be the Evil Son; Oh my child, my pure white heart breaks. I look at you, caught in your dark and solitary prison; enslaved by a power too dark and too large for you clawing at the walls of your soul. I see you from my alabaster fortress, from my righteous inheritance, from my holy estate. Poor disheveled bastard - lying in society's gutter screaming nobody seeing your soul abandonment sealing your fate; I attempt to shift my gaze to something beautiful in my heavenly realm, only to hear you weeping of a broken life and crying of a broken heart. My gaze is fixed upon your predicament; I am caught in a moment of my Father's love and it catches me unaware; I was once in that gutter there.