The Caller

I am aware
it is not just the
snow that melts in the light of
time, that it is all nature.
So I ask you,
Father, why wait to
recover all of thy sigh-
blown age on double pleasures?
Instead, I find
myself engulfed not
in the brimstones of regret,
but in nihilistic bliss.
I do not strike
the board, instead I
shake the tree of knowledge from
which I suspect it was made
for in this world
I believe I am
an orphan; for when I loose
my heart, no one answers “Child”.