And that's when he realised he had lost his son, the boy whose eyes he looked into, were not of the boy he raised since birth.
The boy was cold, he no longer had compassion, he no longer had religion, he no longer had love and the father stood and watched as he realised he was staring at a corpse.
How could he have known, how could he conclude that the boy living under his roof has long since died, how could he live with himself knowing that he had failed to save him.
He failed his son, he preached to hundreds but his words never made it home. Now the father has lost a son, though he can still glance at his flesh, he mourns for the soul because the boy he sees, is far from his own.
