My dad said my pastors have made me a harsh man, and I should take notice while I can, before I am blinded to see: some will still is free. He'd bleed: you sure don't know much about mercy, and as you get older, elder, you'll see, there are other attributes that might benefit you, too. It haunts me, to think that that would be my blessing: the tone in dad's voice had seemed threatening, and now there's nothing I can do to reconcile them to you. And still I can't fight the fear that he was right; a notion that has left me terrified like he was when he went to sleep and woke up in glory.