I always loved my grandmother
As most young boys do
She held me tight
Singing in her terrible voice
Sharing her world with me
I still recall peeling fresh apples
As we mixed and mashed for pie

When age overcame her,
When her body betrayed her,
When I was not there
When wounds are eternally fresh

Age came for me too,
With it, a swell of dark secrets
Ones of devils, so close to home
I wondered, what person could dwell
With family, in a home, here in hell
A grandafather I never knew, forked tongue
And perversions in the brain
His grave forgotten, while his scars remained

Perhaps she did the best she could
Turning a blind eye against a fiend
But as closed doors reveal themselves
A twisting vine of hate creeps and crawls
Sinking its roots in memories skewed
In rose colored glasses, as I unshaken gaze
Into the endless ripples of repercussions