yield

If truth brought despair, and all the lies brought you peace — would you embrace the bitter fruit, or taste the sweet mirage? If life made you choose between what was said and what was meant — would you see it through it all? I wonder — would your fragile heart break, and would that set you free from the chaos I bring, or drown you within me? There were no tomorrows; we never had any todays. It was all I wanted you to see — it hurts, but life always does. And when you learn to breathe again, when the greys take over, and wisdom crowns you, I hope you understand — it was not bitterness, nor the golden throne of mind, that guided me, but the morals of a broken man — who chooses the right even if it breaks him. And even when he tries to hate the very thing he loves, he’s only dreaming of a day he forgets what you are. I kneel not to the gods, nor to the darkness; I only yield to the heart that carries your name. Sorry for what I am, and what I’ve been. But if I must look into my son’s eyes and tell him, “Be the man I tried to be,” — then, you are to be sacrificed. How cruel you are, O Fates. You have me kill the light within. Maybe I was always in the dark. Maybe it was a dream — and we were only a part.