Narrative

andastheday 
dawned 
he 
allowed 
hisheart, 
foronce 
toblindlyfollow 
thesubtlewhispers 
of 
butterflywings 
and 
yet, 
somehow,heknew. 
thisglitterymasquerade 
was 
untrustworthy 
too 
sedated, 
tooperfect 
andso, 
deathcame 
knocking 
entered 
his 
sanctuary 
uninvited,asusual 
hungitscoat 
inthe 
corner 
andsat 
quietly 
unveiling 
itscharcoalsmile 
asanancient 
oak 
fell 
silent 
between 
themoss-greenwalls 
left 
him 
speechless. 
mocked 
his 
innocence, 
scoffedatthe 
fleetingmemories 
of 
knee-ridingfantasies, 
before 
floodinghismind 
thisfather,onceknown 
was 
nomore...

Death came knocking