Parricide
by Jon Trott
Oh, her eyes close down upon it
Moan escapes her parted lips
No lover’s hands in this harsh place
The silent infant finally slips
And in his face I see myself
Yet not myself as it would prove
The blood, the pain, the boy’s first cry
The peril’s promise, the Shade of love
The awful risks not contemplated
The goal of passion unrequited
The hopes to know one’s second self
Instead the stranger’s fire incited
Did you gain or did you lose?
Did you find the random rhythm
Your darling mother tried to choose
I could not stop the cataclysm
There is love or there is violence
A gentle truth or fruit of lies
Beelzebub within the vacuum
The deadened buzz, Lord of the Flies
The door swung open upon scarlet
She lay dying on the hallway floor
You stood waiting, shining blade
Rammed it home and once more
My love rises as my eyes dim
The sky receives my final “Why?”
The prayer of life amidst death’s nearness
I cannot speak although I try
But if I could have here the words
Oh dear boy your rage has slain
Those who love you, love you still
Now bear the sin, and bear the stain
In the heart of God above us
Her dying body who gave you life
My stilled hands and blade-pierced heart
Hold both love and cold dark knife
Weave your story, weave your lie
But love pursues though we are gone
Now you live, but love won’t die
All is Grace, and Love has won.
