Tears

Two brothers once fought each other in the confounds of their living room. what began as a friendly slap on the back (possibly a little too hard) to diving fly-kicks upon ribs. Climbing armchairs, diving off couches, pouncing upon each other like hyenas upon prey. A living room turned warzone. Suddenly a kick too hard, and in the head. The sudden rage and hideous enmitious emotions cast away. The believed satisfaction of winning this battle was gone, in an instant, replaced with pity, compassion, regret, and love. This battle was over, it should never have begun.

Twenty years down the road two brothers stand together both within the same four walls. A fight still rages between the two. One brother filled with envy, controlled by disillusioned pride. The other tasting the the bitter sting of love, venting that pain upon his kinsman. What have they become they ask themselves, but never a question to escape their minds. Neither one nor the other will shed a tear of sorrow. It is weakness in his eyes, in his brother's eyes. In man's eyes. Time will not change any hearts. Hate never give to love. Not now, nor ever again.