You watched your grandfather die.

I believe you were 7 years old at the time

But the strangest thing was even though he wasn’t blind

he refused to acknowledge your face.

It was strange; he acted like it was a game

He would just close his eyes when they fell on your frame

Even when you were trying to keep him away

From the trance he was making his grave.

You could tell his mind was dying

while his shrink was simply trying

to keep the thoughts clumped in his brain

from falling right out of his head

But his childish actions receded

As the doctor, he then treated

him with a little too much of the drug

that started his demise.

He seemed to have a moment,

“The Surge,” I think they call it

during which his eyes were full of

such a sudden recognition!

“Please, grandson,” he called out, desperate,

and you rushed; your eyes, they met his

but he simply held your gaze

unlike anything before.

“I will leave this Earth in sadness

and in hatred of my madness

for I have stopped myself

from seeing your beautiful face.”

And with that, his vitals worsened

a stench filled around his person

and you could tell by his face

his soul had left while incomplete.