There was something he always wanted but never found.
His eyes in search of solutions but they only found problems.
He was just a boy, yet longed to be a man.
The connective light he sought was never found.
Father had eyes of granite, hard and incendiary,
Each time their visions combined, pain followed.
Father ached as son crumbled over tears of fire.
Son longed to open up, words never came.
Torn apart by circumstance, pride and tragedy.
Each night both would curl up around their insecurities.
Inner conflicts consumed their substance.
Neither spoke much, they didn't know how.
Father watched his ambitions destroyed.
Like glass they smashed into the voids of helplessness.
From this father still hasn't recovered.
Son, however, in spite of his fears, began to rise.
Son wanted to share his joy with father,
Father hardened by years of disappointment.
Alienated, son realised nothing remained.
Despite being tied by blood, forever they were strangers.