Choices We Make

Running through nothing but pitch-black darkness.

Running from people who believed I caused harm.

Running away from my father's mistake.

                                                                                     I was angry.

The wrong choices I made,

Taking my brother with me,

Not knowin what lies ahead of me.

What if I were the cause of his death?

What if it was entirely my fault?

                                                                                      I was angry.

Separated from my brother,

The only one I could rely on,

I felt like I was taken to the gates of Hell,

Imprisoned and beaten for my father's mistakes.

                                                                                       I was angry.

Tortured for a long ten years,

Until I finally escaped,

I took out all my anger inside me,

On the people that imprisoned me.

                                                                                       I was angry.

Reunited with the one I longed to see,

My brother stood before me.

He was mad at the wrong I've done.

My brother, the only one I could rely on, began to hate me.

He hated me for the wrong I did.

And so, the thing I feared the most,

The death of my brother,

Was truly my fault.

                                                                                        I was angry.