The Others

A really emotional piece dedicated to my brother-in-law...

The Others

I remember their faces, as they lay dyeing,

their wings laying crumpled and torn.

Faces as sweet as I imagined heaven,

Those eyes without a glimmer of scorn.

They died for no real cause,

other than to bring others delight.

Those others were cold from the years,

they didn't care about a child's fright.

No those men had nothing left.

They only had one day at a time.

To live or die was their motto,

all else that stirred was sublime.

I remember their faces, as they lay dyeing,

I could not help them then,

because I was one of those others,

I was as cold as them.

Though now as I think back to those days,

I realize the good that I could have been,

If I had called for salvation,

And confessed to all of my sin.

But no those were days unrequited,

they would never have back what we took.

We were those who destroyed without thought,

We as creators lived as crooks.

In the mirror I watch, as I lay dyeing,

I hope to help to rebuke and transcend.

For soon I want to again meet those angels,

and help their broken wings to mend.

I know I do not deserve forgiveness,

nothing such as I, can ask for such care.

But I hope as I see their innocent eyes,

Their virtue they will openly share.

For in my next life I will be reborn,

as a creature with love that transcends.

I will embrace them as they should be,

and with hope I will make amends.