He Knocked At

I was in the deep domain of sleep No dream reigned my closed eyes. When the storm started was unknown. I heard his voice- Open, open the door, 'I'm here your loving little bro.' Four times he called. First one was a request And the rest two had the tone wrapped up With the possessiveness, 'I'm yours bro, Why Aren't you opening the door! ! ' I was in the realm of half consciousness In middle of dead and alve. When couldn't reply, his voice faded out. He knocked to get in this world Before leaving. In the morning I saw the curtain of door Tore in parts...