Beautiful Child

This is a tale not meant for the faint of heart,
Disturbing, alas...
But one thing is made most cert,
All souls are bound to pass...

A slit of the throat, it had been quick,
Nothing brutal. Not slaughter...
Or so he thought, as he sped through woods thick,
Quickly, for he had murdered his daughter.

Under the light of the star-filled sky ,
He was a guilty man, He fled
A father, indeed, but his eyes stayed dry,
How could they?, His daughter was dead...

His frantic mind was brimming now,
With thoughts from times before...
He used to call her "Princess", Oh how
She came calling him "Papa!" through the door

Then the time he watched her first play,
And told her she acted well
It was hard for him to believe that today,
The curtains of her life had fallen..

The weekend trip they both went on,
Camping, out in the wild...
He realised, his heart felt it.
She was gone. Gone forever. His beautiful child...

In that final frenzy of blinding wrath,
His human nature revealed,
He set his razor-blade on his little girl,
And her destiny was sealed

What had she done to deserve this end?
This punishment of death...
The razor cut she couldn't fend,
That cut her short of breath

She had spoken to a stranger once,
An act for which he had her warned
And another time, through the fence,
When she thought his mind had calmed...
The third time it happened, t'was funny,
She had started calling the stranger "Honey"

Today had been the final straw,
They were kissing on the porch,
This was what he, the Father, saw
Every single touch...

As the twilight filtered through the shades,
The dying moments of the day...
He marched to his cupboard, the one with the blades,
Anger came to the fray...

The minute she stepped back in the house,
The razor-blade made haste,
A glint of steel, blood on her blouse
The act was done, with certain distaste

A flimsy reason, yes indeed,
No reason to take a life...
But when the anger inside swells up, freed,
It's bound to cause some strife...

All in the mind of a man who drove,
So steady, through the night,
Then suddenly, he pulled up, by a grove
Alone, the moon shone bright...

Everything seemed so painfully still,
Perception changed; the sorrow...
The rage that drove him to make the kill,
Would it see a tomorrow?

The tears started falling now,
They were rolling down his cheek
His wetted eyes, and through the dark
He saw the ravine, and the creek...

He knew that he could live no more.
A murderer at heart,
Child-killer, Demon parent, what not
He wanted this guilt to stop...

He took his steps to the edge,
Each one filled with remorse...
He looked around, and that was it,
He jumped, with nothing to break his fall,
A single scream. A single thud. Then not one sound

Nothing at all...