Where minds may mire their ponderous desire
We find the sunder of living brothers-
In arms laid bare upon paths split in twain
Where one might wander, the other wonders

Within the insights of the surreal and the bland
A sword sits between the two beaten hands,
An edge for the sweetness of one's desires
The other for discipline and truth as his bands

For once they held a banner raised high
In sequence they walked the roads of the sky,
And with the trust of the gate and the key
Until one wills upon the other subjective travesty

Blame for crimes of belief and of choice
And held at the throat where he was given no voice,
A brother of rage could not stand to bare
Such hands from the other; for desire or care

As reasons play forward to treasons tried,
A heavy heart demanded a fairness when denied,
Though rage was his way, his heart felt true
That if the brothers fell apart; his sorrow would renew

The judges were brother and queen so stark,
A blameless guise of reason rocked-
An imprinting of belief to burn as a mark
As they saw the rage burn they'd mock

Onward with logic and sinner's reprise
That every star in the sky could be "yours or mine";
That all are but one and should live as so,
The individual is not, and such times are old

But the rage wouldn't stop, as his life was spent-
Denied of everything, all the rights he was lent;
By the meaning of life gifted at birth
His individuality was suddenly deemed absurd

So how will the brothers reunite once again
When the rage will not bow to the queen of desire,
I hope for the sake of the stars and their lives
That the harmony of 'choice' wipe away such ire.

A discord of sun and moon in a dance
Whence swords seek blood of kin,
Pray release for these souls a'trance
And shed light on a fight so dim