You would not be,
You could not be,
Without drawing me
Into you 'mood,'
on anything
yours,
******* me around
just for the heck to
see!
And carry me close--
your 'loved' son
For whom you
wanted to be the
one
In charge and in your
seat after you're
gone;
And so I laid all else
aside, faithful to
your call,
So heard your word
alone, and only at
your nod had it
done!
Then you were
nightly fed evil
misunderstanding,
As loving hearts too
often are prone to
slipping
On malicious dice cast
by envious others,
like 'echoes
travelling
From the center like
horses' wildly let
loose--
Ah, and the brother
who so wept to you
over my
sorrowing!
I was mistaken---
As one of them days I
had to awaken
Just to learn that you
were taken
In death, and left a
denial of my little
rightful due:
'A will' contradicting
the Qur'an, with
father's love
proven false and
forsaken!
How night and day I
stood by you and
more, a willing
sacrifise
At your fingertips, no
question devoted
without lies,
Deferential, tireless--
surest among your
ties,
I lived entire years
suffering, accepting
Blame for anything
that came to your
mind without
asking 'whys .'
They who put false
love in token arms
Around your deluded
dying head with
seeming charms,
And falsely called
whatever words
you uttered
'perfect
and wise'--
Who led you to
deviate from Allah's Holy Word
And thus corrupt your
love as father, and
so die in
foresaken
esteem--
Came around your
coffin the day you
died, perchance
To lift their heads up
boldly, and with
your 'will' in hand
trace
Every bit of every
thing that ever
belonged to you--
at once
A final heartbreak
showing that
together we didn't
belong in spirit,
And that love, like me,
was a mere
pastime to you
albeit parental
disguise!
(December 18, 2021)
NOTE: The quotation in the 13th and 14th lines ('echoes . . .horse') is borrowed from Sylvia Plath's poem "Words" (dated February 01, 1963--just ten days before her death by suicide at age 30.)
(-personal note: In light of evident emotional weight that I borne while preparing this poem, in particular, I only wish to remark that 'hindsight,' while helping me
if only generally (i.e. as a writer), did nothing to ease genuine disappointment or ******-emotional trauma in actual event thereof, or at any rate distance experience of parental abuse into intellectual categorization whatsoever.)
