How can i take the monetary subtance, a miserably deceitful good, from a brother a shy less than flesh and blood; Whom gave me more than i could ever imagine. her name was hope. Her maternal twin is love. And our brothership is intensified by both, as one truly trifled heart could ever gleem. He slaved over brick and mortar to provide for himself, for i cannot steal his earnings when i have no right to any fortune. He gave me shelter when i lost my path. He fed me and clothed me when i lost my life. His arms wrapped around my shoulders when the tears trembled down my face. Death, I and he, faced eachother and nothing felt closer. But I, a devil in sheeps clothing, could never accord such heartfelt care in a multitude of life times to come, netherless todays nor tomorrows. Thus, i leave him my belongings, my manmade tinkerings, and all he may ever need. As i depart,It is the least i can do for a brother. O' brother.