Shame

“…she knew what was happening, she knew what had been done, and she knew by whom; deplorably, she chose not to protect me — her only daughter. Yet still, I recklessly continue to labour with the relentless manifestation attributed to her betrayal, her weakness, her shame. Why won’t you show me your love I crave for so so much; the love I excruciatingly continue to suffer for — why?…one day she will know, one day she will feel the festering of her shame decomposing the shadows of her soul — like rotting oak mercilessly subjected to the pounding rage of an unforgiving sea…through my shame, she will know shame…and what a shame that shame will be”