We loved him like a brother but we could not hear his cry,
our own ears full of merryment and singlemindedness,
yet there he was, our soul sibling, making forth to die,
blinded by distractions, we saw not his distress.
Too late we hear the depths to which he fathomed all alone,
who understands, who has not known the darkness which grabs hold?
How many tears have fallen, but how many to condone,
our ignorance and callousness for our friend lying cold.