Don't forget,
3 • Oct • 11.

She was the one,
The great provider,
The one whom gave us,
Her all, in entirety.

Our mother,
She was our one,
The only person in home,
Herself, in awe.

He wasn't one,
The great deserter,
The one whom gave none,
Nothing, in entirety.

Our father,
He was gone,
The shadow on her heart,
Everything, in all.

We gave up,
Our bodies,
Our hearts,
Our souls.

We gave it all,
For her to return,
Only to receive,
His reentrance.

With him also,
Came resentment,
One of us squealed,
The other of us screamed.

All in all,
We gave up,
Too much,
For a monstrosity.

To have her return,
Ingredients for a human,
Were quite simply,
Not enough.

Two tiny drops,
Of two halves her blood,
Mixed with elements,
Does not compose, soul.

The journey,
To repair both of us,
The damaged offspring,
Would be all that resulted.

All that remain,
Are her memories,
Along with memories,
Of fates twisted.

Our fates,
Twisted by actions,
Formed by intentions,
Of noble origin.

To be distorted,
By foreign will,
Acquainted powers,
Ally against control.

Thus,
we become dogs,
Of the military,
Of our guilt.

Greed,
Gluttony,
Sloth,
Lust,
Envy,
Pride,
Wrath.

An apology,
Forged by love,
Is all we have left,
All that we can give.

We clash,
Till fingertips bleed,
To repair all,
That's become,
Of our sin.