Death. Death. Death to us all.
The voice of dread cannot be heard
The red eyes are heavy,
And the lies, the acting is but a burden.
I will only befall my brother.
My precious little brother.
There was no one left but us.
My fate now sealed,
Find me one day and kill me.
A poem written by my best friend, who I sometimes share my account with. Can. You guess what and who it was about?