Photo Courtesy - My own collection
On the top of the tomb
He looked wonderful
Smiled through his eyes
Inviting me to join
When I hesitated
Groovy soul
Strolled with me
Telling stories of pals to amuse
With the cracked voice
He spoke about her
In the battle, martyr prised
Lost in love she lost herself
In the distress
She played with a knife
For relief she bruised
As in self-harm chopped herself
The pain I saw
Disturbed the inner
But he was content
As his waiting was over
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