I hold your head with shaking arms Eyes awake, unseeing A crimson now is all I know A curtain that veils my being My son, asleep, so sound, so young Lay still, awake, forever I touch your brow a final time As you dream into the never My scepter strewn upon the floor Scarlet seas, still, pool, engulfing I hold your head within my arms With eyes that now see nothing I feel the tears come to me slow And sense the crimson fade As life filled tears fall from the mind of the prince, so serenade
This poem is in reference to one of my favorite paintings - "Ivan the Terrible killing his son" by Ilya Repin. The painting immortalizes the moments after Tsarevich Ivan Ivanovich of Russia strikes his son Ivan in the head with his scepter in a fit of rage, killing him. Here is a link to the painting: http://i.imgur.com/7ssbb.jpg
I must also mention that I use the word "serenade" here to evoke either its french meaning or the words etymology. In brief, I use the word serenade to mean "serene" or "calm".