Brothers

You can take nothing away from me

Nor do you have goods that tempt my desire

The only harm you can do me is when I believe you’ve hurt me

And thus I’ve done it to myself

And while you create tornadoes and fume about

I shall sit here with myself

Unmoved

Still

And treat you as the friend and brother you are

Though you call me your sworn enemy and bring soldiers into my lands

We have no army and I will come for you on a white stallion

With wine and bread in my satchel

And a smile on my face

And watch as you taunt me

Laugh with your battallion at my simple clothes

My small horse

My torn satchel

And I will feel the hurt rise up my chest and into my throat

But I will trap it there

And take a deep breath and so swallow it with the source of all things

And I will smile at you again

I will love you more than before

I will watch as you draw your sword from your belt and up across your velvet robe

And descend from your magnificent beast

While cheered by one of the crowds present

And mine will stay hidden and say nothing

Still smiling

Knowing it could be no other way

And as the grass submits to your mighty stomp I find you next to me

Black leather glove gripping the sword’s handle like Arthur

The assuredness of Alexander beaming from your beautiful face

And I will resist the urge to close my eyes or seek refuge from my imminent parting

But instead look at you square with the subtle power of Marcus

And meet your looming mind with the quiet head of Aristotle

I will watch the sun get caught in the blade and it will sting my sight

And I will laugh the most perfect laughter

I can already hear the Gods calling my name, awaiting my return

Still smiling

I will watch your face turn and your entire being drain from your upright corpse

And you fall to the ground on your knees

And I will meet you there

I will call you beautiful

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