This Short Passage I Have Wrote

You sit there with your bright eyes so blue
Your hair so straight and so dark,
the pink light of a sunset complementing
a picture of radiant beauty outshining all else

But how incongruous is this to the scene
which finds you sitting in dumbfounded silence
surround by flitting friends and well-wishers
rushing to and fro just like bees around a hive

Your gaze a shocked and disbelieving stare
seemingly failing to comprehend what you see
the sight you're beholding at this moment
has ended for you almost everything you know

all those innocent and carefree days you knew
now but memories of a blessed and golden youth
no more glorious days in grassy fields and meadows
no more glorious days beneath this very same sun

While you sit their shivering in your disbelief
An island of calm amid the feverish activity
I stand away to the side, seen but unnoticed
looking on at this chaotic scene before my view

Calmly and quietly I stand, aside from the crowds
almost dispassionately gazing upon this furore
as your world falls apart I am standing watching
Observing and relishing my final views of you

You will later read this short passage I have wrote
Tears welling up in your eyes as you recall
the events of this night that ended your adolescence
this beautiful night will pay psychiatrists for years

For long before now you will know who I am, my dear
and you will know the scene I have described to thee
For I am your father, and tonight I have sinned for you
For I have murdered your sister, your lover, your twin

Chris McKenna

12/01/03 23:25 - 23:55
Written on computer in study,
I had been reading works about love and suicide
by Alex (AKA Ducky, Keychain), an Amy Studt Forum
contributor, posted on the Open Fiction site.

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Copyright © Chris Mckenna 2003.

Published here 03/05/2003