Morning Never Comes

The night he pulled his brother from the fire, he forgot how to fly.
He couldn't be a little boy anymore.
His father never intended to push quite so hard;
He just wanted his sons to survive,
Because, like any parent, he couldn't always be there for them.

So they wander now,
In a cold, cruel world,
Never quite grasping a thought happy enough.

And their shadows never leave—
Sewn to their souls with unyielding threads.
And it's hard to find a bearing
When they can't see the stars,

And morning never comes.