Could warmer springs of evening stars
Realize the truth of who we are?
Nay, never has this truth been heard.
You say nothing with your empty words.

Flies south in winter does the sparrow,
As we transform selfishly to the narrow.
Closed off in words of beautiful hate,
To turn back now would be too late.

Openly flow the saddening tears
And the thinking back on better years.
Times of sorrow, turn to joy -
Your happy faith was never the ploy.

Gone away are the broken lies,
It's time now for one final goodbye.
So goodbye all, you'll be well missed,
And goodbye friends that aren't here for this.

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Note: This was written by a wonderful friend, on the eve of his death years ago. Having found it now, I decided to try remaining unemotional as I posted it...I failed.