Et tu, Brute,
I thought you were my friend,
I thought you would believe in me
until the bitter end,
Your disbelief, I can feel it now
where only tenderness I felt before,
It follows me around these walls,
it seeps through the hole of my soul,
My inner voice has grown quieter now
drowned out by your water of words,
Losing your faith as a friend, my friend,
has pierced arrows into my side,
So know that I loved you once, my friend,
and that love will never die,
But the wings of an angel are touching me now
and I’ve got to go inside,
High, high, far away high
to a land that exists within,
within and without,
have no doubt,
Someday you will see it and then,
you won’t be so hard on me then, Brute,
you won’t be so hard
on me then.
s.k. lindeman