deepundergroundpoetry.com
Laughter at My Father's Passing
My father told me, on his death bed,
My child you are more evil than was I.
Not because you fill people with dread!
And not because you have the Devil's eye.
Oh no, it is because you are a lot like me,
Only you do not regret the things you do.
As I breathe my last, you weep not I see!
Is it because you and I both always knew?
That one day you would eclipse me fully.
Congratulations, daughter... and farewell...
And after that, no more did Father breathe!
I can only assume, his soul went unto Hell.
Oh what am I, sometimes I ask, so awful!
How could I weep for a man so wicked?
Despised by those whom he victimized,
Cruelest even when he was at his kindest.
Yes, he and I both more than ever realized!
That his many sins came swift to visit him.
I could not tell him that I knew it was time,
Because I am the incarnation of life's ending.
I show mercy on all whose hearts are kind!
For him there was no mercy that he earned,
And so at his end I could not give him ease.
If that makes me evil then I shall be burned,
In the fire that awaits in the darkness for me.
Oh what am I, sometimes I ask, nervously!
But I never burn, even when universes die,
Because I am Death, and as such I endure.
My father did not even look me in the eye,
Because, he was afraid, even as I was sure.
I felt his fear, I knew his sins, and I laughed,
While our maid thought that I'd gone crazy.
A great evil was gone, and all of his wrath,
And at last I could live my life with dignity.
In this body, I was the daughter of a monster,
But even Death cannot choose her parentage.
Within me, no evil is there to ever truly stir,
Even when something stirs me near to a rage.
Oh what am I, sometimes I ask, at this age!
I am at peace with my father's swift passing,
Swifter than he deserved, one smallest mercy.
I regret that I had stood there, coldly, laughing!
Because I am not like him after all, not fully.
Never again shall he tell me the old stories,
Of our ancestors and of their terrible glories.
My child you are more evil than was I.
Not because you fill people with dread!
And not because you have the Devil's eye.
Oh no, it is because you are a lot like me,
Only you do not regret the things you do.
As I breathe my last, you weep not I see!
Is it because you and I both always knew?
That one day you would eclipse me fully.
Congratulations, daughter... and farewell...
And after that, no more did Father breathe!
I can only assume, his soul went unto Hell.
Oh what am I, sometimes I ask, so awful!
How could I weep for a man so wicked?
Despised by those whom he victimized,
Cruelest even when he was at his kindest.
Yes, he and I both more than ever realized!
That his many sins came swift to visit him.
I could not tell him that I knew it was time,
Because I am the incarnation of life's ending.
I show mercy on all whose hearts are kind!
For him there was no mercy that he earned,
And so at his end I could not give him ease.
If that makes me evil then I shall be burned,
In the fire that awaits in the darkness for me.
Oh what am I, sometimes I ask, nervously!
But I never burn, even when universes die,
Because I am Death, and as such I endure.
My father did not even look me in the eye,
Because, he was afraid, even as I was sure.
I felt his fear, I knew his sins, and I laughed,
While our maid thought that I'd gone crazy.
A great evil was gone, and all of his wrath,
And at last I could live my life with dignity.
In this body, I was the daughter of a monster,
But even Death cannot choose her parentage.
Within me, no evil is there to ever truly stir,
Even when something stirs me near to a rage.
Oh what am I, sometimes I ask, at this age!
I am at peace with my father's swift passing,
Swifter than he deserved, one smallest mercy.
I regret that I had stood there, coldly, laughing!
Because I am not like him after all, not fully.
Never again shall he tell me the old stories,
Of our ancestors and of their terrible glories.
Published 21st Feb 2024
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22nd Feb 2024 6:43pm
This is a really powerful story/poem. So dark and in your face. I love it. Well written.
