Can you hear me father, I know you’re watching; I feel your eyes, I hear you talking.
Do you approve?
Do you respect?
Will this blood on my hands bring you back?
Shall I shed more, to harness the pain; a dagger in my chest the day you were slain.
A stab in the back when mother took her life; I choose not look at that, a twist of the knife.
What am I to do Father?
Father do you approve?