[Lyric] Father father. (DAVIDRKING.)

Just a little past one
resting my head on the pillow
a place of imagination and wonder
to hear of loud knocks banging at the door
back from his journey with men as the same
screams to tear my eyes open.
Bring me back at what I feared most
my Father who strikes rage.
Striking! with all his might with sounds of thunder
as a tree falls in the forest, this does not
rather to burn and leave no bush. . .

reckless rage inflected to my mother
a sober thought not to begin a process of sympathy
engulfed by the pressure of carnage
a plant to absorb from the Sun.
My Father who strikes fear
burns in his chest of hot stone
his trail leavings upward to my door
cowardly under the blankets hearing the knob turn
my Father the one who strikes fear. . .
If punishment causes one to enable their spirit
of their guttural cry, to discover a gift
from what my Father strikes me with
with scars, bruises and tears am I rewarded?
a crown?

The door opens as I hear his deep breathing
exhausted by trying to damage the diamond
his smell poisons the air
crawling its way on my blankets to my nostrils
my Father holding power to break and destroy.

His rage to burn as if I forsaken
with no blanket to stand before Him
my Father.