sat on a park bench at noon he dressed early charity shop other people had already made his fashion decisions for him cast aside like they cast aside his son, his visits less and less frequent now, his name is uttered as a mere whisper except in anger and in war he has less strength than when faith supported his mental health shouted from the fortress pulpit, blending in on the seedy side of life where the real people are when asked about the second coming, he said I gave you all free will and look what you did tell me, would you send your only son to a God forsaken place like this AGAIN.