Horrika

                                                                              HIDEO Thoughts, not of my own So overwhelming, yet meaningless Not a single word, left to be unremembered Just a single utter of the name I still hear A hymn to a god long banned Cemeteries of secular stone My mother, rested beneath cold dirt To me, the only god I have ever known With her final day She gave me The very thing she lost From the bed Of which I lay my head Nestled against the pillow As if it was the warm breast Of the one who birthed me I heard the thoughts Of the only other I loved Only to know The bond was not mutual Father I