My brother does not answer; his mist is pale and thin
My mother grips my frail arm, feeling of a pulse too heightened
His will is anchored he's gone for good
From a fearful and agonizing trip, he's finally won
I salute and forever he'll be my idol
He's walked the short line where he lies
Fallen cold and dead
YOU ARE READING
A Mind You Must Never Know
PoetryWhen you're stuck with no where to turn..pick up your pen..he's your only best friend. Write.
