Theres a story I read in the Bible,
coming from Old Testament,
that taught me I should love my father
taught me how to not resent...

or waste my days waiting on the
semblance of a true repent.

He was Caine and I was Able.
He killed a part of me
in the name of his God,
I called my Devil.
I curse missed opportunities...

He was Caine I wasn't able
to get that needle off his table.

There's a reoccurring vision
that is haunting my sleep.
Would he still do ******
If each time it had been injected by me?
A terrible vision,
a sickening fantasy,
that I'd rather him die by my hand
than left in his life's purgatory.

When looking down at his thigh,
does he think about his son?
Ink beneath the trembling skin,
where I left a mark with my own gun.
When looking up at the sky,
does he think about the sun?
How it shines on everything
and how he's not the only one.