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My Father - Part III (Fiction)

As I drove towards my parents home, I realized just how much I had changed. The streets, the houses, the color of the autumn leaves all looked the same. Yet, I felt like a stranger, as if I was living in someone else's dream. In a way it saved me from acceding to my own cowardice. I know if I had really had a chance to analyze what I was doing, I would have turned around and never completed my journey. 

Sometimes it's those little moments in life that have the greatest impact, the ones you wish you could change. If I could pick any moment in my life to alter, it would have been my decision to come home.

As I walked from my car, each footstep felt heavier than the last. I almost had a moment of clarity, as if I finally realized what I was doing. Despite all my desires to turn and run, my steps continued to carry me closer towards the house. Maybe, they already had control, even before I met with my father. Maybe there is no escaping their hold, their grasp. There is a part of me that wishes I could give in to those thoughts, to think that my decision to come home had nothing to do with what transpired. Except that line of thinking leads to nothing but despair... because it would mean that I have no hope left. That I have lost all control.

I remember the solid feel of the door as my hand pressed against it. The peeling paint on the door pressed up against my palm felt more real than I did. I watched my fingers reach forward to ring the bell, yet all I could feel was the flecks of paint breaking away beneath my hand, the hard weathered of the wood exposed beneath. 

The buzz of the bell was a dooming cry, as reality finally set in for me.

My Father - Part II (Fiction)

I'm not sure exactly what I expected when I went to meet with my father. Perhaps some hope that somewhere I would find a connection with him. Despite the fact he's worked to change his life, we've had little connection over these past few years. In a way my hatred for my father was the only real connection I had left, and here I stood ready to give it all up.

Sometimes the choices you make in life are determined by maturity and the desire to grow, and sometimes those choices are taken right out of your hands. Going to see my father seemed at first to be a choice firmly in my control, but I discovered that in reality it was much more the second of the two.

I've spent the past few years abroad and so I've seen my family only sporadically. Part of me wonders if it was intentional. To spend so much time away, so I could avoid giving up hating my Father. Avoid seeing the changes he had made to his own life.

I suppose I have to admit that was part of it. I didn't want to give him another chance, give him a reason to make me doubt my own convictions about how terrible a person he was. I never really stopped to think about what would cause him to behave the way he did. I had only selfish concern for how it affected me. Does that make me a horrible person... I'm not really sure. All I do know is I made the decision to try and change that relationship, even if it was to late.

I wonder... if I had come earlier would the outcome have been any different? If I had taken back my words could I have stopped what happened? I see the blood on my hands, my arms, and splattered across my chest. The few droplets that have spattered my face seem almost to burn. Can blood really burn, or is my mind starting to fray at the edges. Is it happening to me too, this slow descent into insanity. It must be, except it all feels so real.

What he said to me, it had substance. It wasn't the ravings of someone who had gone mad. It wasn't the unleashed anger that I remembered from my past. He really did seem a different person, but the words... it was the words themselves that seemed to trigger it all. 

My Father - Part I (Fiction)

I never knew who my father was.

As a kid growing up the only thing I saw was his raging temper. I lived in daily fear that his attention would turn towards me and I would end up with another beating. I spent the first several years of my life wrapped in a blanket of mortal terror. He was not a man to me, but a machine. A vast trembling machine that came home every night from work loaded with burdens, frustration, and anger. I tried to stay out of his way when his temper hit, but more often then not my attempts to avoid his notice just drew his ire.

As I reached middle school I realized that my father no longer towered over me. It was then that I gained that first spark of fiery resistance and began to stand up to him. It was a pivotal moment in my life. You see, there's a point in your life when you get tired of being afraid, where being scared is just to much work. Not that it really changed much, my father still beat me. The thing was, I didn't mind the beatings so much anymore. I wouldn't say that I was any more courageous or brave then before. I was merely tired of always being scared.

Highschool was the first point in time when my father stopped hitting me. He realized, I think that I was no longer a small child, and I had lost my fear of him. Not to say that my father and I stopped fighting. To the contrary my father and I fought even more often, though it had now evolved into a battlefield of words and overwrought emotions.

It was towards the end of high school that my father finally realized he had a problem. In the midst of losing his temper and trying to hit me, he hit my mom. You see, I had never seen my father raise his hand in anger towards my mother. In some ways I think she was sacrosanct. His one pure untouched thing, the kids were fair game, but my mother was that elusive angel that kept my father going, kept him focused, kept him sane. She remained untouched until that day, and when he hit her something finally broke inside. The machine stopped, just like all things do I guess, even rage can die.

He went to therapy and sought help. He tried to slowly change his demeanor and the way he reacted to us.

Except for me it was to little to late.

You see I hated my father. There were times I wished he was dead to free my mother and my family from his reign of terror. In my mind my father had always been a towering and terrifying figure from my childhood. He was the angry voice, the raised fist, the fear and loneliness. He became the focal point of everything that was wrong with my life; my pain, my sadness, my lapses of judgment. Hating him became almost ritualistic. Something went wrong in my life and I added a little offering of blame on the altar of resentment that I had erected to him in my mind.

In a way my father was a god.

It was several years after I had left home that I slowly came to grips and realized that I no longer hated my father. I'm not really sure where it started, but somewhere along the line I gave up hating him. Resentment was still there, old angers still simmered, but that hard core of hatred. That brittle bullet was gone and so the altar to my father crumbled and I finally sought to reconcile with him. I was almost 29 at the point where I sought to patch the rift that had formed over the years. I'm not sure if I ever really believed that I could.

I wish I could say that was when I went to my father and we talked. That we spoke about past hurts, worked out our grievances, found a middle ground to our many differences. I wish I could say that we finally made peace. Except that part of the story never happened, that fairy tale ending wasn't in the cards for me.

You see, my fathers dead.

And I'm the only one who knows what killed him.

Written - 11 Dec 2006 - Blessed


I stand admist the war torn children
The lost, they are forgotten suns
They were our future now our folly
Their souls our bloody price for guns

Endless hunger always seeking
Our passion for more pain and strife
We beckoned that the nightmare cometh
Our own souls we sacrificed

We've forgotten how the light did come
We've forgotten how the soul is won
We've forgotten how the times are changed
We've remembered how to bask in pain

Our bloody hands are clean of grime now
The red stains mark us as before
No notice do we pay the blind man
For He is Us forever more

Cries are strident calls for saving
Falling deaf we hear them not
Blessed we shut out the darkness
Abandoned children left to rot

So we walk the roads alone now
Our future lost to time's dark hand
Our seeds no longer sew the ground now
We left them back in far off lands

Perhaps one day we'll wake to find
Our homes no longer filled with hate
Perhaps one day we will discover
The sacrifice we chose to make

In that day of new discovery
We might find our soul's rebirth
To see our lives with eyes unclouded
Our tainted souls will find some worth

To find that it is not to late
To save our children from the scorn
To reap them back from the death we dealt them
Even Blessed souls can be reborn

- Taesian


Written - 20 May 2006 - Broken Souls

 Broken Souls

Waking every single day
we find the ways have parted
souls once kept in lover's care
once bound in strife, in pain, in fear
shared abandon, souls intertwined
that fragile bound is gone

In it's place we now find
festering wounds of times before
no soul is there to trap our hearts
no prison built of love
instead we stand alone in sin
our strength is lost and torn

Salvation seems within our grasp
it taunts us with it's gleam of hope
were we to find the truth within
the chains which bind our hearts
would lay fallow from misuse
as we seek each broken part

Alone we stand in sorrowful repose
searching for the way
the shattered hands that guide our souls
the bleeding eyes that see
we thought we knew our place at last
so we stood, so strong and brave

Our hope we carried as our shield
Our sword of faith was love
Our armor was each tender word
Yet, now we find it does not last
Now we see the souls defeat
Our greatest gift turned into sin
Alone admist the pounding sea

We are not the rock of ages
We are not the mountain stone
We are not the fabled kingdom
Our souls they strode a different road

Shall we find the things we seek
Shall our search bear endless fruit
Shall we laugh and cry and weep
Broken souls they know

Written - 23 Sep 2003 - The Gatekeeper

The Gatekeeper

Taking steps to keep our hearts
Bound within a sheltered grace
Walled within we hide our sorrow
Showing friends our other face

Never sleeping we seek to hide
Building walls of greater girth
The stone we find is cold and dark now
Our devils prison seeks its worth

We can not find the truth inside us
The emptiness is all we feel
Our simple minds now are frozen
Pushing back what is real

Glimmering we catch a glimpse of
Truths unfolding ray of light
The solid prison walls do crumble
Our soul unburdened now takes flight

We were our own prison makers
We were our very keepers still
By letting in those who love us
We finally realized what we feel 


Written - 31 Sep 2003 - Razor Edge

Razor Edge

I stand here waiting and I'm not sure why
I stand here weeping and can't cease to cry
I stand here broken and bereft in sin
I stand here helpless and lost within

I kneel here seeking to find the truth
I kneel here hoping to find its you
I kneel here dreaming all that will be
I kneel here to escape reality

I lay here weakened a shattered shell
I lay here knowing it all to well
I lay here having lost faith in you
I lay here wishing it were not true

I dig my grave and clamber in
I seek some solace from the pain I feel
I try to reason and explain the why
I still feel lost and weak inside

I thought I knew the person who
Faced me day to day
I thought I knew the girl in you
But that belief now fades

I realize just how much I missed
I yearned for each tender kiss
Then wonder if it was true
The dream I had has grayed

You took my faith and broke it
You took my heart and choked it
You simple lies tore me apart
Left me empty and void of heart

So now I sit here typing still
Unable to now cure the ill
I wonder if what we had was real
Or was it fake the way you feel...


Your Happy Sunshine

Here I sit in this bleak facade
Wasting away the timeless days
Twisting myself to please your whim
To curry favor I sell my soul

You wish for me to just smile and laugh
To play puppet to your every string
To dance your dance and sing your song
To you my soul is less than nothing

Anguish rears its ugly head
I can't make it fade
You berate me for my pain
Tell me to brush it away

How can I just turn it off
Show me where the button is
Tell me how to find the cure
My remedy in your simple words

Life is so simple
Life is so plain
Just feel good
I don't need to explain

Where is the end to my suffering
Where is the open door
You talk of the way to release
But your words float away

Can you stand in my place
Will my soul it burden you
Can you understand the way
Cutting away my very support

I want to end this
I want to find peace again
But you can't see that
You wallow in my every sin

Stop your twisted lament
I'm not your rising sun
My soul its still setting
My fights barely begun

Can you recognize I need this pain
Where would I be without my suffering
I'd be less than who I am
I'd never understand

Left here all alone
Never having gone through it all
My soul may be black
My heart may be bleak

But my soul is my own
I'll never forget
I'll never forgive
I'll always be me

- Taesian


Written - 31 May 2003 - Time


Never enough to grasp
Never enough to last
We scramble to its rhythm
We fall folly to its whim

Seconds ticking by
We live each little lie
Finding immersion in illusion
Society's grand collusion

Webs of envy simple greed
Feeding all our baser needs
Left forgotten our other woes
Our souls sold out like Dante's hoes

Leaving others far behind
Victims to our endless grind
Family, Friends, not one a care
Our goals are lofty and none are spared

Ticking clocks they rule our lives
Tocking rhythm always drives
More and more we stand and pray
The god of Time rules our day

Can we ever step away
Will our souls ever stray
From the maze of time's dull grasp
Slipping from it's chilling clasp

Taking moments to share our cares
Our love, Our hope, Our dreams aware
Breaking free life is found
Hope though fragile still abounds

So step away from the clock
Ruling by its tick and tock
Take a moment to share your day
Listen to what others say

Break the system of time gone by
Find the love that's gone awry
Mend the fence between your kin
Save yourself from endless sin

Sharing life is what we need
Not time's rule of self-fish greed
Love, compassion will pave our way
Our souls redeem themselves each day

- Taesian


Written - 29 May 2003 - Thresholds


We stand upon the threshold now
Awaiting scars of age old hands
Towers trumpet the final call
Distant echoes ringing forth
The waste and frailities of our lives
The sordid misuse of our soul
Who will champion our demise
Somber now in solitude.

Victory was within our grasp
Sanity was mere steps away
Thoughtless virtue bound our hands
Timid triumphs ruled the day

Can we find the long lost path
Can we loose what tied us down
Envy, Greed, Despair, and Hope
Each they walk their seperate ways
Sitting here upon the brink
Lips do tremble and hands they guide
Simple cuts draw out our soul
Open wounds to make us whole

Tragically we find ourselves
Mending wounds our soul respite
Anger, Hurt, Defense, and Love
Models of our age old plight

Who we are is now defined
By what we were in pasts regime
Lost and lonely slips away
Calm and sure we now stride forth
Our past is shed like a gilded cloak
Memories will fade...

Who were are is not designed
By hands or minds of other ilk
Instead it is a beacon bright
Of our own souls omneity

- Taesian