Atonement
Though shame does not furrow your brow,
I see it in you.
Scorn and ridicule,
they trail your footsteps,
staining our honor, darkening our name.
Glorious heritage is yours,
dignity your blood's
reward. Yet you toss
them like waste, like a
worthless scrap of history. Insolence!
How dare you abandon Him? Me!
Foresake us! For what?
A short-lived passion?
Dreams that blow through time
like the wind? For this, you dishonor us?
Your effrontery stabs at me,
bleeds on father's grave,
tracks bloody prints through
memories of Him.
In you, his great failure is now my own.
Twists of chance bind us in threads of
unconscious fealty,
ties we slash against
in a vortex of
infighting, dragging us down to disgrace.
Duty demands that I restore
our dignity, but
my pride exacts a
price. I must look down
On your bowed head, accept your atonement.
Then – you shall be free of me.