Brotherhood's March

Alejandro

came late, with a storm in his eyes,

With ass-bananas raised to the skies.

Tim, short and stout,

said, “Follow my lead!” Too sure of the road,

but strong in the need.

Alec roared orders, then wept at a song,

While AJ counted calories all the night long.

Storm charmed the kingdom with silver-tongued ease,

Yet knew not why boats float—“Hung like sleeve!”

Raise up the horns,

let the old mountains ring,

Ten foolish brothers, no need for a king.

Through shadow and thunder,

through laughter and pain,

The oath of the ten shall endure and remain.

Kyle played his guitar,

handsome bard of the hall,

But his showers delayed the departure of all.

Ben threw a stone past the farthest pine tree,

Then explained how it flew,

while his hairline took leave.

Kevin rose early, the healer so prim,

By moonlight, bare cheeks and a backwards-crawl hymn.

Austin loved forests, his camera and hounds,

Though a nightstand once witnessed his strangest of rounds.

Riley rode easy, deep voice in the air,

Mistook a loud speaker for somewhere to spare.

“I don’t know, maybe,” he shrugged with a grin.

Wyatt told prophecies no one could pin.

With scruffy wild wisdom and elbows gone wrong,

Hebounced through the woods with a never-ending song.

Then darkness fell hard,

and the ten lost their way,

No lone heart could summon

the breaking of day.

Kyle struck a chord,

and Kevin found stars,

Austin found trails through the mist and the scars.

Ben cast a stone,

Riley rode to the glen,

Alec called Storm, and they gathered again.

Wyatt woke roots, Alejandro broke through,

And Tim led them home as the morning light grew.

Raise up the horns,

let the old mountains ring,

Ten foolish brothers, no need for a king.

Though kingdoms may crumble and ages may end,

The greatest of legends is ten lifelong friends.