two brothers share the night
We settle back on leather thrones, glass and ice our sceptres.
Candelabra lit, the hounds at rest, two brothers share the night.
Tell me, lord, of mountains far, and I shall speak of valleys.
Whisper soft of tears aloft, and I will gale with laughter.
Boast upon your finest hour, while I but moan defeat.
Your nights of black and smiles lack, I will comfort be.
And when laughter wanes and tongues grow weary,
morning's light shall end our night.
We rise but slowly, friendship now holy,
and turn to walk away out of sight.
- 2
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