A man, all wrapped in blackness,
devoid of all belief;
a wraith, all clad in sadness,
resigns himself to grief.
He grasped life by the edges
and wrung it out for meaning;
it would have spiralled onwards
without him intervening,
but lost, he turned to shadows
and wrapped them all around him.
He let go of the strings of hope
and there, alone, Death found him.
We wear his cloak and think of him.
We grieve the painful ending.
His life is past, too short by half,
but memory lasts, unending.
- In Memoriam