Raging Whimpers

Raging whimpers in the night,
of virgin sails and aimless wails,
he cries for help to no avail.
And here I lie and listen.

My skin has known no deeper crawl.
My heart no wider break.
My gut no louder voice within,
To warn of my mistake.

"But sleep, my son, is yours to keep,"
I whisper to my soaken sheets.
"When tides of peace replace your weeps.
And sweet relief supplants my shame."

For though my mind knows this is best,
My soul and heart doeth protest.
And conscience quivers all the same
with raging whimpers of his name.