Shadows

Listening to the lost music
Memories from the distant past
A voice of fury, and of blame
And those murmuring beside the door

His father loudest in the mix
Indulging in his nightly rants
The cocktails swinging in his eyes
That hand poised high and filled with flame

Mother submissive, in her way
Staying steadfast by his side
She suffered his tirades and insolence
And waited for the coming day

Their child could hear them through the walls
The fluctuations in their tone
A rising cadence, hitting hard
Then breakage drifting down the hall

The anger would then dissipate
Exhaustion through a tense household
The child would still stay awake
Fuming at shadows on the wall.