The silence of conflict

I forbid thee to turn as I brother
For you more wiser owneth more potential than I;
It is the grief thouest witness I bestoweth upon our mother;
For are dreaming belief excluded not but a lie?

A pain so weary; our father has but a hope in thee
And oft’ are my chances dimm
Our father had lost but all hope in me;
Such as wolves tearing a soul apart from limb to limb

But are thouest chance of survival not more fortunate and blessed?Thou ask distressed.
But a hopeless cause be I not;
steered by bad imagination and decisions made I not close to being guessed?
How hard is it not when a man's life are but throttled by a fierry hell below so hot.

But all hope and faith placeth I in thee.
As far as the eye can see wouldst thou reacheth farther than a combining sea.

This poem is about: 
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