Things Better Left In Paper

Untitled 6

Have the Gods forgotten me?
Or do they remember but choose to condemn me?
For why am I, a simple and naive child forced to face this beast of a man.
A beast who shouts anytime he is angered.
A beast so fearful yet at the same time exudes much warmth.
Warmth that I cannot feel, as if I am no child, as if I am undeserving of such things.
The beast so fearful is my father; who was once human in my eyes too.