Father, I do not hear your words

As in quiet space and black night I am. Where is your discipline?

Gone non-existent.

Father, I do not see your love.

A vagabond heartless, lacking warmth I am. 

Your creation, broken shattered.

Father, I do not feel your tenderness.

As in whiteness of coarse rock, rejected I am.

The rain falls, limestone crumbled.

Father, I do not smell your maleness.

The 'Old spice' of a substitute, a product of such I am. 

A surrogate on trial, imposter unreal.

Father, where is your strength? 

It was used up for I am.

You gave it away.

The spawn of your existence, 

The seed of your lineage.

Who are you? 

To me nothing.