"Blood connects us but does not bind us. Sometimes losing a friend is like losing a sibling."
Blood runs deeper than a creek of flowing water.
Yet it means so much more, creating the saying 'Family doesn't always mean blood.'
Family is something were born in to as a brother, sister, son or daughter.
A friend is one we accept as all four.
Because to us family is so much more.
Than the life we have, than the life we make.
There is a bond that is made between to men,
As they share common interests and a story of their own.
Everything else seems to fade,
As they become closer as a family that they wish they were born into.
They go from friends to being brothers.
Laughing and drinking to the joys of life,
It gets stronger as they go but then one of them is called into war.
A devastation as that call comes,
And he's gone with one last goodbye because he knows,
War don't always end with a life called back home.
One breaks down in tears as he leaves with one last wave but he remembers the words that were said that day,
When he tried to convince his brother to stay.
"I don't know if what I say makes any difference. I wish you wouldn't go."
He remembers the smile that appeared on his lips,
As he placed a hand to his shoulder in a gentle gesture but firm grip.
His eyes glassed over with his own unshed tears,
At an upcoming war that brought on their fears.
With a squeeze from his hand and heart filled reply, he said,
"I will be back. We are more than two people brought up in different families, we are brothers. It's a bond that will never be broken."
He laid his forehead to his, a promise in his words,
And a plea to the heavens that they brought him back home.
So he let go and walked away,
Both having so much more to say.
One look back and a wave of a hand,
He was off to set foot on a tainted land.
A year passed and he finally got the call,
That a young man took the fall.
He served a country till the very end.
As they brought him back with a flag folded over that coffin.
Guns brought out to descend up into the sky in respect,
For a soldier that left the world to soon.
And the gun fire spoke louder than words as it filled the silence and one man was left to stand,
Over the bed of his brother, of his best friend.
A hand rested on the closed coffin as he spoke a few last words.
About a promise he made.
"You promised you would come back home. I wish you had never left, brother. I'll miss you. You were my family. I couldn't ask for a better friend. A better brother. Rest in peace."
He wiped away the lone tear as he dropped his hand.
War was something he would never understand.
But the bond they had was something he would cherish,
Those were feelings that would stay,
As they would truly never go away.
He lost something irreplaceable that day,
But he would always remember times,
That they smiled without any worries,
And grew up with something special.
It's called brotherly love,
And he wouldn't trade it for anything.
He left the graveyard after everything was over knowing he was with the lord in heaven as they listened to the salute,
And knew that even angels on that day sang, a sorrowful melody from a flute.