Oh, father, my father
How I yearn for your presence
How I toddle in your steps
No longer worthy of your presence
I dwelt in your house at dawn
But now in the dark and cold
My heart quivers and my bones quake
For having what I was not to take
Your call echoes across my soul
But I am muted by the light that lets me see
Lets me see my brother fall before your call
Oh, how I hated your praise
For that which draws my gaze these days
For your art that stays my heart
I pray I see my way
Before I end my start
My foes seem many
But with faith in thee
Those before, are soon behind me
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The Road to Nowhere
Trigger warnings: Violence, Death. "May the Sun burn your tongue out, woman," Fredrick's father screamed the curse into his mother's ear as their elegant little carriage rumbled along, its polished wood and gilded trim glinting in the torchlight. They had just left the small village of Saffron and were on an unnamed road to the capital for the Royal wedding. Fredrick leaned back in his plush velvet seat to escape into the passing landscape, but across from him sat the servant boy, a scrappy lad named Jack. Jack's eyes held a mixture of awe and fear, the kind that only a commoner could feel in the presence of nobility. Jack looked up and caught Fredrick's gaze, offering him a sad little smile before reaching into his pocket and retrieving a little caramel treat. This candy was no doubt stolen from the kitchen treat cupboard; if he was caught with it, he would be locked in the box as punishment.
By Frank English7 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
This was amazing!