That day….
When the snow turned to rain…
Beyond the oaken doors laid,
slain,
A true warrior, prepared to die.
For he stood and lived,
and passed through to the void,
for his convictions.
The crimson and golden leaves of autumn continue to fall.
Upon his body, where he wished to decay and feed the earth under his beloved tree.
For he stood and lived,
and passed through to the void,
for his convictions.
The rain drops fall from the tree, like the tears of all the loved ones left behind.
The seasons change, the tree blossoms.
A representation of eternal life, where he will always be remembered.
For he stood and lived,
and passed through to the void,
for his convictions.
We will carry this sadness on our shoulders until we’re gone.
because he lived to die
For his convictions.