The youngest brother;
The power of trinity to perfect every flaw
Has been the nothingness; home for his hopes.
Titeness lulls his interest
Listening to the unrelenting echoes of 'oneness;
The fount of the bane of his life.
And the eldest brother;
He speaks the piercing language.
Touting the lie; love will be born of morrow!
And the middle brother;
Complacency leads his demand.
Perhaps; hoping that time will deliver the awaiting child.
"Love is a fraud amidst us",
Keep saying the youngest brother.
"It lives nearer to death than to life"
"Our mother is barren, and birth canst of her".
He needs no more truth; that's if the echoes haven't been lying.
His delights savour of seccession;
To be a man and of his own.
