A brooding boy.
Shrouded in darkness.
Eyes seething contempt.
Contempt for his own flesh.
Hatred to the loins that spawned him.
Longing for his father.

How could he be borne
By the unsubstantial jellyfish
Floating with his own poison.

A crying infant.
Hungry for attention.
Longing for his father.

The newborn looks at the boy
With knowing eyes
That wearily speak of experience
Far beyond his years.

Steely eyes forged from the pain
Of seeing his mother beaten
Knowing he could not intervene.

Knowing one day
The winds would shift
And the blows would rain on him.

But better him than his mother.
And better him so that it would
Fortify his resolve.

That when he was big enough,
Strong enough.
There would be no more fury.

Only whimpering.
Begging for mercy.
Groveling.

Only the fury to protect his loved ones.
The fury to protect his progeny.
And only the the desire to shower love upon.
Them.