Consign to Oblivion

There was no knock on the door,
Just the mark of a foot beside the handle
As the shadow of what used to be a man rushed the room
Polluting the atmosphere with his poisonous breath,
No words, just the whip of his belt breaking the silence.
~
As his thoughts decent from the situation with dreams of future fortune,
The child is holding back the cries from within as the whip hits his bare skin.
Now the child numb his anguish with illusive dreams of prosperity,
Yet, the wealth he seeks to reach is just a castle in the air
In which he strives to seize.
~ ~