At the edge of the cliff, he stumbled,
Thousands of feet was the fall,
While behind him the avalanche rumbled,
And the wolves raised their howling call.
His brother rushed forward to save him,
And strongly clutched his hand,
But the other cried out with a fierce voice,
"Save yourself, get on sturdy land!"
With that said, he pulled his arm away,
And his body heavily fell,
But his soul was free for eternity,
And would, forever, be well.
But the brother, left lonely, atop the cliff,
Felt incomplete each day,
For it felt to him like part of his soul,
With his brother, had fallen away.
Morning would fade into evening,
Then the night, full of sorrows and woe,
"I loved you!" the man was found screaming,
By the grave, in the glistening snow.
"Oh Lord, why was it not me?" he cried,
"The lucky one's fate is sealed!"
For the wound of the loss of a loved one,
Is a wound that can never be healed.
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