Father Damned
comforting truths,
of subtle soft winds
apple blossoms fell,
gentle sweet sin,
the summer birds flew,
they lite up the sky
they season the dark,
all timid and shy,
sometimes I think,
I wish it were real,
I wish not to wake, I wish I could heal,
he is not real,
for the weary must stray, cold with a chill,
think of it as you may,
man has lost his way,
for truth is but frail,
as tainted as the flesh from the rust of a nail,
pull back the veil,
soon you will tell,
for the teacher of man is the father of hell.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
