why must our stitches start to unravel?
why must the gentle touch turn cold?
Why must the veins stop their travel?
why must the graceful love quickly fold?
she says I'll give you everything i own,
my life for you to loan
but he walks,
he walks with careless breeze, underneath a depressing piece
the bothersome he holds for the family who cared,
yet here we stand unaware of this unappreciated fare
we watch him grow as a child, as he gallops through the yard.
happy, he is with the joy and comfort he brings around
we then see him, growing from a distance as he plays
feeling, he still has as he marches away
we spot him, from afar, watch him turn from us
he stands with a new family and forgotten trust
my dearest brother, for you have ripped the stitches from their seams,
you have shown us the growth of deception and the forgotten dreams