“You watched your grandfather die. / I believe you were 7 years old at the time / But the strangest thing was even though he wasn’t blind / he refused to acknowledge your face.”
You watched your grandfather die.
I believe you were 7 years old at the time
But the strangest thing was even though he wasn’t blind
he refused to acknowledge your face.
It was strange; he acted like it was a game
He would just close his eyes when they fell on your frame
Even when you were trying to keep him away
From the trance he was making his grave.
You could tell his mind was dying
while his shrink was simply trying
to keep the thoughts clumped in his brain
from falling right out of his head
But his childish actions receded
As the doctor, he then treated
him with a little too much of the drug
that started his demise.
He seemed to have a moment,
“The Surge,” I think they call it
during which his eyes were full of
such a sudden recognition!
“Please, grandson,” he called out, desperate,
and you rushed; your eyes, they met his
but he simply held your gaze
unlike anything before.
“I will leave this Earth in sadness
and in hatred of my madness
for I have stopped myself
from seeing your beautiful face.”
And with that, his vitals worsened
a stench filled around his person
and you could tell by his face
his soul had left while incomplete.