Poem of the Wildflowers
By Lucky_Ladybug
Notes: The characters aren't mine, the poem is, and this is sibling
cuteness! I'm gonna call this my Easter poem ^^

The winds blow over the land with a lisp,
The grass dances as its ally passes by,
But the flowers embrace what lies in their midst
Kissing the soft flesh tenderly as they fly

"Don't you know?"
They call one to another,
Sadly,
"The boy is dead.
This field of wildflowers is his final bed.
We are what he felt last before
He drifted away to rise no more."

For so it is true

They knew not how it came to be
Or who would be so full of cruelty
They only knew what they had seen:
The body had fallen and landed so mean
Among their ranks and grass so green

They do know the boy had once stood proud
Before he had been encompassed by this shroud
His skin, once a deep rich tan,
Now is pale from one's malicious plan
The eyes, once so bright with lavender light,
Will see no more of their owner's plight
But the blonde hair blows gently from the boy's face
Revealing one kingly with grace

The flowers are grieved at this tragic sight
And wonder what they can do to make things right
But they know of nothing, save just this:
To bear him there, peaceful, as he sleeps in bliss

For he appears to be sleeping,
That he might awake,
That the tragedy will unmake

Long into the hours is he kept safe and guarded well
By daisies and lilies and gentle bluebells
And not even the ancient Pharaohs in their vast, stately tombs,
Lain so long in their silent doom,
With jeweled hands upon cold breasts,
Can compare with this boy's eternal rest

In the pre-dawn light panicked footsteps break
And the flowers at first in fear do quake
Who now trods upon this sacred way,
Disturbing the sleep of the one who lays
Just beyond the yonder hill
Never to stir again at will?

A strong man, stern and fierce,
His gaze to others truly does pierce
But the flowers soon realize that harm is meant not to the boy laying here
Instead, as the man draws nigh, from his eye falls a tear
"He loved him!" the flowers cry one to another,
"The one who sleeps was his brother!"

To his knees the man descends,
As his heart swiftly rends,
And into his arms he takes the boy,
Whose body is limp as a broken toy

The flowers hear the anguished pleas ascending to the skies
As the man to revive the boy thrice tries
But his efforts are vain
And he knows there shall never be an end to his pain
Though the boy's has ended

Again to his heart the man holds the still form
Wishing with all his might that it was yet warm
For him his tears cannot cease
For him he cannot find peace
He loved this boy truly, as the flowers say,
And it is a love that doesn't dwindle away

"This is not right!" a lily cries loud,
"Why can he not have his brother again,
Strong and brave and proud?"
But she, a little flower, knows not what to do,
For she has not the power
To make the boy breathe anew

But then from a wise bluebell
Comes words that won't fail
"Petition we must to our dear Lord above!
He created the heavens and earth and brotherly love!
If it is His will, the boy shall wake again!
Let's join our prayers to his brother's and then
We shall see if that won't do
To perhaps be enough for a miracle or two."

The flowers are silent, but all of them know
Their little bluebell speaks words wise and true
And so each precious flower bows her head,
Pleading for the boy to linger not in the sleep of the dead
"We know we only are flowers and not strong and great,
But Thou lovest us all and controls all our fate!
Please, if the boy is not needed with Thee,
Let him rise again, his brother to see!"

Still the man cradles his precious brother
And wonders in rage who would dare to smother
A life that meant so much to him
And to others
Pray, he has, so earnestly,
That again with him will his brother be.
Won't God grant him this one thing
That he desires most above everything?
It can't be right for his brother to die!
And so the tormented man continues to cry,
His tears splashing down on the youth's closed eyes

But all is not lost and God has heard their prayers
As the heartbroken tears adorn the boy's face and hair,
His eyes open once more, the lavender hue so rare!
He gazes up at his brother so sad
And smiles gently, with words of care.
"Don't fear, Rishid! You've not lost me yet.
For I've clung to life to be with you and with Ishizu too!
I thought I was dead, I thought I was gone,
I thought my fate was set
But I heard you calling and I knew
I couldn't leave my family true."
He is strong, he is brave, and he is proud,
And no more on Rishid's heart is there a cloud

His eyes alight anew,
As he pulls the boy close amidst the morning dew
And holds him tenderly, not wanting to let go
Of the dearest treasure he could ever know
His brother is here! His brother is back!
And as Rishid speaks, he feels his voice crack
With emotion, with joy, and with disbelief too,
That the boy has cheated death and returned so true
With honor and love and the peace that elusive has been
When Rishid's heart had lain broken in millions of ten

The flowers look up, their petals bright,
And know that God has answered their prayers tonight!
They smile at each other and at those reunited,
And as the sun slowly rises, upon each she has lighted
Cheerful daisies and lilies kind
And bluebells of such gentle mind
Those who watched over the boy's sleep,
And for his brother safe did keep

Each and all and Rishid as well,
All with hearts that greatly swell,
Again send prayers above the clouds,
Raising their hearts with voices loud,
Crying prayers of praise and prayers of joy
For bringing back the precious boy.

"Marik Ishtar is not dead!"
The flowers cry,
"The wildflowers were not his final bed!
He felt his brother's strong embrace
As recognition returned again to his dear face
And now they hold each other close,
Not to be tragically pulled away from the one each loves most."