The two brothers stood, one against the other

Looking across the vast divide.

Long ago, they crossed fists as lads,

Here on this very land,

Two different promises etched on their blows,

One, to kill, and another, to save,

Alas, a victor was not decided,

And so they went, on with their burdens,

Damaged, but not broken.

Their hardships and their trials took them afar

Journeys filled with happiness and sorrow,

Until here once again they stood,

Ready to finally decide who would be the victor,

With the same promises once again, as men,

One to kill, and another to save.

Blades of wind met forks of lightning in an explosive clash

The shockwaves resonated throughout the land,

As blue eyes met red, a thousand words were exchanged.

Words of anger, and words of rage.

Words of sadness, and words of pain.

A team once perfect by design now lay shattered among dreams.

A team once held together by bonds, now permanently put to sleep.

A team once united, now stood divided,

Not torn apart by enemies, but broken inside.

The world lost two great men that day,

Men that gave everything for what they believed in,

One the sun and the other the moon,

And when the news came the following afternoon,

While the world rejoiced for the end of the war,

Far away, in a little spot in the village hidden in leaves,

A woman wept, clutching a photograph close,

Knowing that her perfect team had burnt to ashes,

Lost to the memory of time.