My Father, Myself

My Father, Myself
By David Cortez

Is a man that stalk,
with shoulders like pauldrons,
defending his heart
as his keep?

Is he that shell,
opalescent mask sturdy,
that protects his
heart like a pearl?

Is he one, and twenty
more strong men,
his mind his shield
and sword?

Does he follow
in footsteps of fathers,
some known and others
still ghosts?

Or does he forge,
his own way,
through brimstone
torment and hail?

Does he leave it all left,
his soul kept bereft,
of failure, instead,
he dreams?

No, man is not men,
he is heart and is pain,
because man,
refuses to die.

And one charcoal day
when life string is frayed,
he passes the torch
to his son.

By father inspired
breeds debt of desire,
a new heart kindle
for fire.

And what, will new boy
decide, when facing the tide
in the deeds his father
has made?
In the life his father
has made...
in the shadow his father
create...