Shadows of My Childhood

In the shadows of my childhood days,
A father’s anger cast its haze.
Silent nights and whispered fears,
Marked my journey through the years.

His words, like blades, cut deep inside,
In his house, no place to hide.
Each step a dance on fractured glass,
Through corridors where shadows pass.

The Tyrant's Whisper

He was the tyrant, I the pawn,
In nightly terrors before the dawn.
His voice a thunder, harsh and loud,
In its roar, I was unbowed.

Yet in the silence after storm,
I found my comfort, freed from harm.
In dreams, I sought a world apart,
Where fear could not invade my heart.

Bruises on My Soul

Bruises hidden from the light,
Painted in the dead of night.
A father's hand, so harsh, so cold,
In its grip, a stranglehold.

Yet in the dark, I found my fire,
A spark of hope, a fierce desire.
To rise above, to find my way,
Flee the pain to a brand new day.

A Child's Lament

In the quiet of my room,
I wept alone, amidst the gloom.
A father's wrath, a heavy hand,
In its grip, I could not stand.

But through the tears, I glimpsed a path,
A way to escape his wrath.
In words, I found my voice, my might,
To turn the darkness into light.

Healing Through the Years

Years have passed, the pain subsides,
But memories return just like the tides.
A father's shadow, long and dark,
Yet in its shade, I found my mark.

Through anguish, fear, and endless night,
I forged my strength and braced for flight.
And now I stand, on my own hill,
With wounds that time would never still.