Daughter

Daughter

That rage you see

Is not as you suppose

That long-suffered rankling of a jagged soul

Whose depth you have scarce imagined

Or even cared to explore

It is the monochromatic blaze

Of a multispectral anguish

Erupting from a mortal wound

Driven all the deeper for your indifference to it

It is the last vestige of hope

Before the breaking of an eternal bond

Which, with every convulsive act of fury,

Screams out its defiance at the dawning

There is no us

Vicious epitaphs roar

From a whimpering heart

Seeking, however foolishly,

To conjure the semblance of your sorrow at the loss

At the very notion that we are not we after all

That I, who would die to keep you safe,

Am nothing in your eyes