Father, I do not hear your words
As in quiet space and black night I am. Where is your discipline?
Gone non-existent.
Father, I do not see your love.
A vagabond heartless, lacking warmth I am.
Your creation, broken shattered.
Father, I do not feel your tenderness.
As in whiteness of coarse rock, rejected I am.
The rain falls, limestone crumbled.
Father, I do not smell your maleness.
The 'Old spice' of a substitute, a product of such I am.
A surrogate on trial, imposter unreal.
Father, where is your strength?
It was used up for I am.
You gave it away.
The spawn of your existence,
The seed of your lineage.
Who are you?
To me nothing.
