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