Dark Legacy
KrazyGamer

Do you hear this?
It's the sound of a young and confused soul
Desperate cries for help muffled and ignored
Shut out, sore, abused a thousand times or more
Questions left unanswered, denials from those whom he implores
A lone boy praying to his fictional lord

The deriding raindrops fall onto his naked body
His collapsing room is beyond even shoddy
He stumbles into the darkness, weak and groggy
His efforts are all for naught
Never quite finding the peace he sought
The food he stomachs is not that which his father bought
But that which he stole
He grimaces in the cold
No tranquility is found in this household

If you ask him his age, he could not tell you
For every day is exactly the same as the day before
He cannot count to ten; he knows no numbers
He knows only of the flash of lightning and the sound of thunder
and the rains that roar and pour in from under the creaking wooden shed

He's all grown up now, and his father's dead
His wife's doomed too, should he ever be wed
His father left him no money, not a single luxury
The only thing he has left him with is his abusive legacy
One which he will undoubtedly pass to his own son
And so's wasted yet another one