The Son Remembers

The day has come and gone, and so has he.

The light now slanting in is old and gray:
It chides the night in gentle mockery,
And bids the youngish man awhile to stay.

The boy who roamed these halls those years ago:
He lengthened, broadened, moved out of his shell;
He didn’t need direction from a man
Who treated family grim, and no one well.

But once this place was busy with success –
And with eyes closed he hears the sounds again:
How pride was once a fortress of excess,
And blackened hearts admired among men.

His father’s life: a pyrrhic victory:
That day has come and gone,
now so
has he

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

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