The spark seared its way
With a vengeance,
And the thing came to life
In my hands.
Crawling beneath eager palms
Poking out through
Flesh and bone
It sprung onto my lap
Like a monster out the mire.
He asked to be branded.
To be stamped with
His saviours approval
But oh!
I loathed the sight
Of my bastard creation.
Punished him with a
Father’s silence.
Left him to watch my
Form fade into the distance.
Son’s first rejection.
I woke the next day
Head in my Hands,
And his gaze
Frozen to memory
With icy indignation.
My dreams have
All been
Laid to
Rest.
nadiajosephine 