... he's my son...

As I enter, the beholder's eye shies,

From a rendition of what your house would be.

Awash with Serenity

Foul taste of my sin

Erodes my mouth...

I have been away far too long.

- He's my son....

Pain written in my tears

Of Grief

Of Anguish

I am at a loss

Humble, I beseech thee

Fore I have naught left

Seasoned Oak and tarnished Brass

Creak inward, and warm shadows

Perfumed with incense,

Greets broken pride

Shy, hesistant steps echo on

Marble, with wisdom lost in memory

Defeated resolve buckles knees.

The face,... drawn, tired

Reflects anguish, sorrow, and fear.

Supported by a pew, spent to exhaustion's limit

...............A Father prays