A Little Boy Misses His Father

Innocent tears concocted from distance

Well up in the eyes and unknowingly in the heart

The brink of the dam reached

As fluid pressure builds

The yield of a torrent awaits approval

An image or memory of the face not present

Slumber cannot hold the child still

His two eye-curtains once made from stone

Warm fluid flows turning stone's repose

Into chaotic layers of frail membrane

As night terrors play in his imagination

A garden of delight for the lonely demons

His king awaits his trusted steed

His pass to ride wildly into the night

And all at once, the arrival celebrated

The loneliness subsides for tears of joy

~~TheSplash