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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Death · #816013
A man searching for some sort of compensation for his Mother's death.
Volume: 1
Sermon on the Mount



This is my story, my fable, and my legend
It starts and ends
Here in this church
Sitting hear listening to this preacher
It’s odd, he reminds me of my kindergarten teacher
This man is gray and old
This man’s words are quite bold
My brain drifts off, as he speaks his mind
All the thoughts of my childhood come flying back
The good
The bad
The white
The black
To say I had a hard childhood would be an understatement
Tragic, traumatic, and sad
Caused by the evil that is my dad
At the tender age of eight
Is the age I compressed my hate


The night of my birthday
Is when it all went down
The day, the night my Dad skipped town
Shortly after all my family left my house
My Mom was cleaning up
As my Dad come in acting all rough
When he would drink, he would get all tough
So he came in wanting my Mom
Wanting what she was not in the mood for
Her eyes tired and her feet were sore
She had been busy all that day
Doing countless things for my birthday
Telling him no until it was getting late



I was tucked snug in my racecar bed
With my innocence swirling in my head
But just after two in the morning
A blood-curdling scream came from my parent’s room
It woke me with a jolt
At first I trembled and whimpered “Mom?”
I heard thumps, pounds, cracks and then a final thud
Then all was quite
Like the calm before the riot
The bedroom door squeaked
As out of the covers I peaked
Footsteps down the stairs
Then someone went out the front door
After a long, long time
I finally pulled myself from that bed
Carrying my dinosaur covers
By this time I was calling for my Dad
He was not calling back
And I knew this was bad

I snuck down the hallway
There was a tiny opening in my parent’s door
Something drew me in that direction
But I wanted my Moms protection
I pushed the wood and the opening grew
My tiny eyes were about to see
A sight that no one should ever see
A sight that no child should ever see
There was a flickering light
Coming from my Moms night stand
The TV was gray, filled with static and bright
I dropped my cover from my hand
The window was open and the wind came in
The dream catcher had already began to spin
My Mom was sprawled half on,
And half off the bed
There was blood dripping from her head
There was a body imprint on the wall
I stood there for an hour
Before the police I did call
It was several years before I cried
About how my Mom had died




Volume: 2
The fall of Cleopatra





The cops said my Dad was at the top of their list
His hand and thumbprints were all over her wrist
The extent of my Moms injuries were sick
Broken collarbone
Shattered Jaw
Fractured Skull
5 missing teeth
2 broken ribs
And bruises all over her arm and wrists

Years later is when I found out the details
About how my Fathers anger was propelled
My Dad wanted to “get” with my mother
But my Mom just wanted to sleep under the covers
Something snapped
His anger was capped
An evil source was tapped

He took my Mother and slammed her against the wall
Then he let her body fall
She struggled up to one knee
Then he kicked her in the stomach
And elbowed her in the kidney
He then lifted her into the air
And threw her over the bed by her hair
Jumping across the bed
He struck her in the face
She tried on last time to run
But he gave chase
Grabbed her by her nightgown
As she must have thought why
To which he would have had no reply
He then picked her up and swung her against the head rest
She fell to the foot of the bed, where she took her last breath








Volume: 3
Hand it down







Repenting
Redemption
Resolution
None of which has come easy
That’s one of the reasons why I’m here in this church
Because, Dear God it still hurts
Until that day
I had ambitions
Until that day
I wanted life
But I turned that night
For evil
For hate
For spite

The preachers voice seems to sooth me
I need to find peace

After my Moms murder I jumped from home to home
So many loving families
But I always felt alone
No real family to call my own

It must have been 15 families
In 10 states
Before I reached my twenties
Having no direction
Can kill your spirit
The only thing I wanted in my life
Was my Fathers death!
By my own quivering, scarred hands






Volume: 4
Trained to Spill






Joining the military was a great choice for me
They trained me and skilled me to kill
I became a top ranked Navy Seal
It took me 10 years in before I began my hunt
Even though My Dad had left without a trace
The one thing I’ll never forget is his face
How his life was such a waste
My Dad was not found
The murder case had long ran cold
And so had my heart
My veins were cultured to ice
Tighter and tighter it became my vice

Years flew by
I no longer cried
What’s the point?
Nobody cares about all the pain
They may act like they do
But ever single effort to console
Was littered with lies
Not a chance they know how much I hurt
Not a chance you know how I feel

Starting my own investigation to fine my Dad
Clubs, bars, schools, and courts
Into them I made infiltration
Taking every bit of my will and concentration
I will never forget my declaration
Of my Mother’s memory and it’s protection










A few years back
I had gotten close
I found letters and pictures
It was definitely his prose
Getting closer
Just made him go further
As away from home I also got further



I never went back to the town
Where all this happened

He wouldn’t even know me
Even if he laid his eyes upon me
However, my sniper rifle locks as him I see
He’ll be right at the end of my barrel
Then bam
He will be dead
No more pain in my head
No longer covered in red
So then all is white
All in the world is right
I can finally breath again
Because lying in my bed every night
Eyes wide open
Hearing my Mother screaming
No choice but to listen
The dreams
The nightmares
Through my body the fire continues to tear
To he who pushes me
BEWARE!












Volume: 5
Dance with a Demon





Now we come back to this church
One last time
Sitting here listening to this preacher give his two cents
Listening to it turn into a dime
Everybody in the church is jaw dropped
Because now the preacher has stopped
The preacher stands at the pulpit
It’s either over, or he gave up and quit
But the pause doesn’t fit

Look to my left
Look to my right
Looking out the window I see flashing lights
But they’ve been there for a while
And it looks like they stretch on for miles
You know sitting here telling my story
Telling my fable, that will lead me to glory
I failed to mention that I found my Dad
But he has looked at me for over an hour now
And he still doesn’t realize, I’m his little lad
He has no clue why I’m here
He has no clue entrenched in his fear
He has no idea, why I’ve taking his congregation hostage
Or how he pushed me over the edge


It doesn’t matter anyway
Time has run out
No more need for me to shout
I’ve now made my peace with all
It’s time for this evil to fall
So here in this church
I’m bringing hell down
Soon this lying man will hit the ground





With one swift motion I pull my guns
“Hello Father, I am your son”
Then I let the bullets fly
As I scream “An eye for an eye!
I’m sorry Daddy but you have to die!”
Bullets scream and fly into his body
Hitting his arms, chest, head, and face
As shards of pulpit spray all over the place
The metal of the guns become hot
As I unload the chambers into Pop
I stand up and charge him
Continuing to unload
Everything becomes ever so slow

By the time his carcass hits the floor
I’m standing over his smoking flesh


About this time the cops bust through the door
Yelling and screaming for me to drop my weapons
All the people sitting in the pews have scattered
I’m now out of bullets,
Not that it matters
Both my arms stretched out
Like the cross before me
I arch my head and smile with glee
My mission is accomplished
I am now set free


As the police yell at me again
The shock and terror hit me hard
All is dead silent as the pieces fall into place
The thoughts of where I’ve been
A light in my mind goes dim
As I realize, I’m no better than him
I drop my guns but it’s now too late
Cops only ask twice, they do not wait
Two of their shots miss
The third does not
Right on the target
Right on the spot




Volume: 6
Dead to Rights





First there is darkness
Then there is light
Third there is hardness
Last there is bite
By some miracle I am not dead
Even though the third and fourth bullets struck my head
By some sick twist of fate
I did not die
I wake, then peer out of my one good eye
Trying to move my arms and legs
But I can’t
Not because I’m paralyzed
But because I’m in shackles
I look at the guard as he cackles
He is standing at my feet
His nametag says “Pete”


This place is unfamiliar
However it won’t be for long
This is the place that I write my final song

Guards come
Guards go

Lawyers say yes
Lawyers say no

They tell me that I’ve been in a coma
In this darkness for two long years
My family comes and then they disappear
While I was sleeping deep in dreamland
A jury found me guilty
For murder, at some degree
And I didn’t even get to take the stand





Worked back to health
To fulfill my life sentence
Here in this prison
Here in this jail
It really doesn’t matter, it just as well
There is no chance I’ll ever get parole
Stuck forever in this hole
Taking from solitary
Into the general pop
Don’t pass go
No 200 dollars
I cannot stop
I’m put into my nice new cell
With a man named Bill Green
He has almost fully served his sentence
He has almost fully paid his penance
No longer to society is he a menace
He debt is almost finished
Bill is in for robbery, embezzlement
And for drugs
But Mr. Green has been clean for years


We became the fastest of friends
Mending my soul with words he would send
Telling each other of our pain
The kind that stings right to the vein


Many a time, all night we would talk
Through the courtyard we would always walk
Confessing to me secrets that no one else knew
The closet thing to a Dad I ever knew
This is so very true







Volume: 7
Pandora’s Box





He release was coming up fast
He said he would write
And that our friendship would last
The day he left I gave him a hug
Then I sat down and I cried to above

The very next day I got a new cellmate
Another man with no release date
He was in for murder and his name was Sam
Alone, depressed and damned

Two days pass and something comes in the mail
The final twist; that final nail
It was a box full of sermons
Some Journals and a letter
These were all from my Dad
This is everything the state had
Being the last surviving member of my family
Is why all this crap had come to me!
Slowly I started reading some sermons
Slowly I began reading his journals
Stories of his adventures
Stories from a lying, murdering Dad
He had traveled the world
Just to find himself
And a preacher he was
But not if they had known what he had done
So he preached from that book
While my memory he never gave a second look
No fortune
No wealth
No questions
No answers
No Help


Volume: 8
Truth and Consequence





I turned everything upside down
And threw it all under my bunk
Except for a personal letter addressed to me
That I kept out to read that night
My soul now stands half black/half white
Oh, how that will soon change
A newfound form of rage
Formed here in my full size cage
I read the letter and this is what it said
“Son, these are the thoughts and actions in my head
I want to tell you why I left,
Why I thought it was the best
Your Mom was wonderful, that I will admit
But she had a problem with drugs
Our two different lives, just didn’t fit
I begged her, but she just wouldn’t quit
There is more my boy, that’s not it
Your mother and I would always fight
Something in our love was just not right
I unfortunately had enough that night”


So you killed your wife?
You didn’t care to take her life?


“My dear, I drove so very far away
A new place for me to relax and lay
I’m sorry that I flew
I just didn’t know what to do
It took me many years
But I finally came back
And you were so very gone”

Yeah, because the pain was so strong



“But what I found, when I got back to town
Was that your Mother was murdered
I had giving her the bruises on her arms and wrist
One of the things I regret in my life was raising my fist
I did have a problem with aggression
Holding my anger under suppression
After that night, I learned my lesson
So after that, never again did I drink

But every cop in town wanted to talk to me
However after only a few questions they set me free”


Please don’t tell me this Dad
No, no, no, no…I’m going mad
I look toward the guard in the hall
He nods, laughs, and confirms it all


“I searched for you, but they wouldn’t tell me where you were
I just wanted to hug you, and I just wanted to kiss your face
Figuring you never wanted to see me again anyway
But always a shadow of you I did chase”

Anytime in my life that I would have wanted my Dad to have killed my Mom
That would be right here, and right now!
Any compensation
Some form of Redemption
For me killing my Dad
All these years our paths must have always missed
All those nights under the stars I wished,
That all of this was just a nightmare
Some sick dream
A place where my Mom was alive
And my Father was redeemed

Here before me is the last piece of the letter
Please, Oh God, let it get better
Say this is some sick joke
From an even sicker man
But with a quivering voice
I read the last paragraph
And in my heart I already know
I already understand




Volume: 9
Genesis



“But son, the purpose of this letter
Was for two reasons
It was to tell you why I ran
And to tell you of my plan
I love you son, but if you are reading this
I came to the end of my run
And my life is done”

What?

“I found the man who did this
The police had already put him in prison
But it was for several other reasons
They never connected this man to your mother
Only I had the paper trail
Only I knew of her addiction
Your Mom got way to deep into these drugs
She got associated with all the wrong thugs
Then she got behind on a payment she owed
These guys didn’t play, and apparently it showed
I hid your Mothers problem
For the sake of her memory
So she could remain so pure in the world’s reality
So I know who he is
And the day he gets out
I’m putting a bullet
In his head, chest and mouth
I’ll be waiting when he walks out that gate
No longer for peace will he have to wait
However, just in case
I can’t make it to that place
To meet her killer face to face

I’ll give you his name
So you’ll know who to blame
He was a drug-addicted dealer
But he has long been clean
The murderer of your mom, is Bill Green
© Copyright 2004 insaneshayne (tarantino23 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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