Sunday, March 5

Former glory

Cry for father's hands
No more following orders
Fruitless rebellion


He can't hear you now
The shaking stops, but the brain
Only knows fight / flight


I'd never hurt you
You have to believe me, dad
Listen through the fog


Find yourself in dark
Through alarm, fatigue and drugs
I'll stand by the light


I hold memories
Of precision and labour
Your former glory