The Bloom of Brothers

At the dusk of light, that’s when the trees start to fight. Their roots entangled with each other, they forgot they were once brothers. The storms start to hit, and the brothers start to trip. Their branches are dying, and both are crying. Sap drips from their vines, almost like blood dripping in mines. In their minds, none can find the lost battles between twine. They once longed for each other, wanting to secure one another. But what happened? Why do they fight? Deep in the horizon, in the darkness, you will hear the flutter of the leaves of the broken. Each laugh is like a token in the dark. The tremor of each voice is like a lost tune in the sky. Each melody carries a longing sigh. The brothers laughed once, but now they just push with a punch. Oh, so different, yet mostly the same; some may think they are both to blame. They are all so strange. Through the casualties, siblings broke apart, glaring at the sky, asking, “Did I go too far?” Finally, a broken breath spoke; out came the words with a choke. The elder said sorry, words striking the sky with glory. But the words came too late; the brother’s life ended— it was only fate. Here this story ends; the elder brother’s branches had to bend. It was only a matter of time before they snapped. The boy was only trapped. Though the younger is currently weeping, nothing can stop his quiet pleading. Over time, the young brother bloomed, although one branch remained as broken as a broom.