Monday, October 26, 2009

Might come or lovely bones

Brother dear will I see you there in paradise when I come?
Two years rushing to nowhere.
Your life made me sad
Your death made me mad
that I hadn't yet lived

I asked God what to give
I asked God how to get
everything that I'm dreaming and still
two years later
run from run and nothing.

Thinking what it's made me.
Humming how it's made you a passing thought.
Things that I can never forget, boundaries set by
a flaming sword sits between me and you.


All this long way, I'm coming home.
I'm coming home.
Both of us promised not to live long;
Touching things coming, being things gone.

thoughts on the passing of my dear brother

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