Deceased Brother- or-
Who Was That Masked Man?
What happened to the man I thought I knew?
Though not my brother, I thought of him as such;
How I cried to find his words weren't true;
I somehow doubt he was affected as much.
This bloodstained cloth wrapped around my wrist,
Though it's been washed, faint stains you still can see;
And my weapon, clenched tightly in my fist--
The only things I've kept reminding me.
As though last week, I still remember the day
He took me in and offered me a home;
But with one act, he did my trust betray;
For that one act, upon the streets I roam.
So soon I'll die, in one way or another,
Just like the illusion I saw to be my brother.