My Son.

A small reflection.

Oh what has happened, my son?
What has happened?
Your eyes once diligent, now stone.
Your tongue once peaceful, now sharp.
Your love once vast, now shallow.

My son what have you done?
What has corrupted you so?
What has chased you into this morbidity?
What has temped you with it's dark pleasure?

My son, my son.
You fell from grace and lost your wings.
What will you do now that you cannot return?
You traded your honesty for subtlety.
How will anyone trust you?