O, my father, wrapped in a quilt
And the frost of your breath,
Shivering under dark sky.
I held you up with my trembling
Hand on your shoulder and felt
Helpless as you held your side.
With the flash of the sunrise,
I burned your pain into my eyes,
And even when I blinked, I could still see you
Flickering in patches of violet and blue:
An image of you hollow and human,
Writhing on a hospital bed,
An image of you hunched and human,
A snarl of thorns wound around your head.
And the pain in your eyes, it was mine, it was mine.
And the pain in your eyes, it is mine, it is mine

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