The House
There is a darkness In my soul. It cannot be healed. There is in my heart A hole That cannot be filled. There is a man Not under control A man who cannot be killed. ________________________ Is he a man or a boy? Perhaps a man in a boy's body. Or a boy in a man's body. Just because he's discovered the age old secret Does not make him a man. It does not make him innocent either. He has done wrong. By himself. By his family. By me. But I cannot retaliate Lest the family come after me. The family is broken. Not to be healed. There is no communion Or sharing of thoughts. There is no group. Only fragments and shards. What once reflected a whole image, Now shows only a spiderweb, Like those found in an abandoned building The family, too, is an abandoned building. A structure that stands only on the outside, But has caved and rotted away from within. And yet they cannot remove him, Because he is a pillar of the house. Perhaps not the biggest pillar, But a pillar nonetheless. And to turn on him Would be to collapse the brittle structure. He is a strong pillar. Perhaps one day he will raise up a new house. To cut him down now Would be the end of him. But he is infected with termites, and it is through him that the house Came to crumble. It is through him That the third pillar fell. Yet the house will not see him cut, For the termites can be smoked out And the integrity restored. It is too late For the third pillar though. And the house will never be the same.