In a dimly lit room, a father sits alone, His world a blur, a life half-known. Years have etched lines upon his face, Each one a tale of time and space, Lost in the bottle, a siren's call, He watches his life slowly fall. His son, now a man, stands at the door, Haunted by memories he can't ignore. He sees the wreckage, the wasted years, The silent battles, the unshed tears. He yearns to reach out, to pull him near, To whisper words the father needs to hear. "Dad, can't you see the pain you hide? The love we share, you cast aside. I need you now, not as you were then, But as a father, a guide, a friend." His words hang heavy in the air, A plea for love, a desperate prayer. The father stirs, a flicker of light, In his weary eyes, a glimpse of the fight. He sees his son, strong and tall, And feels the weight of his own downfall. A moment of clarity, a painful truth, He's robbed his son of his golden youth. But love's a bridge that can be rebuilt, A bond reforged, a future unspilled. The son must see the man within, The father's struggle, the silent sin. And Dad must rise, with newfound grace, To heal the wounds and find his place. For in each other, they'll find the key, To break the chains and finally be free. To cherish moments, big and small, And build a love that conquers all. A father and son, hand in hand, Walking together, in this promised land.