A Tribute to My Lord HGY; on the loss of a Great Mind

Far above the thatched roofs of despair,

Away from the mournful echoes of this great sea,

my Lord leaves,

in a palanquin carried high above the tattered hearts

that still yearn for him.

“What shall we do when we miss you?”

Shall we call unto you with

our already sorrow-spent voices?

Will you rise from your uncertain resting place

and speak to us again?

Perhaps you will answer us

and appease our crushed souls.

Far above this Chosen land,

My Lord leaves,

mourned by King and water-bearer alike.

Away from this hermit kingdom,

my Lord leaves,

his return very uncertain.