Dead Brothers

Maybe one day,
You'll hear the summoning,
It's always frail,
When you'll hear, beckoning;

Dead Brothers of age,
When you pass on,
Through densest stage,
Of relentless storms,
Hear the gushing,
Yearning, rushing,
In the wind and rain,
You will live on.

Fiercest of us all,
You all,
Living life in the obscure,
Dissonant midst of the offhand.

My Dead Brothers of age,
For ages gone and ages to come,
In the wind and rain,
You will live on.

In our thoughts and minds,
You will live on.

In our memories,
You will live on.

Until, that which is at hand,
Is our fall.