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