Truce Father

 
pent-up pain no need to explain...

with a scalpel's precision,
you make the incision to an affected infliction
causing me to bleed eternally, internally
external scorn adds insult to injury

looking through clouds it is no mystery
confounded glory...never
Father, why did you have to wake me from my slumber?
If your Goddess, My Mother would have been an attentive wife
you never would have taken another to your bed chambers

I treat you with reverence
she requested my exile
petty thief of the soul
cruelty will never appease her
she is scorned forever

I am here doing what I do
she seeks a lover to rub in your face,
from my enforcer husband

Father without naming names I know your other Goddesses
you can not use me as a cover
it is unfair to us both
I approach your royal court
and await your answer

until then remember me with fondness

you daughter Bren,
Mother over Elizabelle and Exodus
darlings of your eyes lest you forget us