O my poor Dad! What is the habitability zone?
I gave you Olympus, but how could we have
become like clouds dispersing from one another
in the torrential rain? I am not going to freeze in such
disparateness, I swear! I am not mothballing
like an old trainwreck! All the inconvenience
of the ages, all the trapezing and walking on
burning coals, should have set us free!
But no! They want to give us medication
to prolong their sins! I am just not a
subtle, passive, receptacle of evil aggressors!
No tame bull to a matador’s design! You know there
can’t be any peace in this peonage; even if there
is no war!!! I have not unsheathed all my swords;
nor have I displayed all the trumps up my sleeve!
They think they can have me misplaced, on misdirected!
I didn’t even convince them that I am not a forlorn ship on
the sea, waiting for the lunatic tide to take me!
You know Dad, I have not asked for serendippity;
There is a time that may see us share the divinity
of darlings, nothing more to say, Dad!
When we can become the frontiers of all belief,
Even the backdrops of all vindication.
A support system works even if there seems like none!
Didn’t Mum give me that belief! And me as your very
brave father give you the same! That there is a forever,
even if all those villains make you believe there is only defeat!
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