If I let your death defeat me,
what will you think of me?
I want to die. my soul feels heavy.
But I won't do it for a memory.
What does that make me?
I remember you brother,
10,000 memories gliding in fall.
I can see you over the sun,
I can hear you laughing alone,
a feeling of a breeze,
as you sprint too far from home.
How many days have passed?
My first few thoughts seem so...
Cold.
Lashes of blame across you,
a crash of hate finds its mark,
And it scars your memory.
Then...
My anger fades to the dark.
But god damn I'll pace and I'll pace,
I'll blame you until I find a place,
for this sadness and this hate.
You could have told me.
You knew I would have listened.
You distanced yourself,
then screamed for help,
In your own faraway prison.
But it was just for attention.
And that makes no sense.
A soon to be dead man seeks attention?
a dead man can have no intention.
And I do have desires,
I have emotion,
I cry, so I care,
I fight, so I believe,
and you, brother,
are alive to me.
For you, brother,
nothing will break me,
and for myself,
I will not be shaken.