A Father's Failure

The great wish is that we shall never feel, Dark as the shady thorns over the yonder; Beating hearts of gloom just atop the hill Men with rage they neglect the ponder. Oh, it were I was happy fool as any Content to play the game of dull pretense, Specious are these moments for so many; Truth tales of lies to their own bitter ends. Some would weasel that amends could be made Bed is done lied in, for shame has come in; Son against father with sharp verbal blade Killed a command, instead honored sin. Yet in the dark, light still filtered good through, Heaven and hell, God above only who knew.