The world grew silent, as the pen dropped still,
When Seamus Heaney took his final breath,
His words like whispers, haunting the hills,
A legacy etched, beyond the grasp of death.

With every verse, he painted our plight,
The struggles of life, the beauty of land,
His voice, a beacon in the darkest night,
His poems, a comfort, a guiding hand.

We mourn the loss of a gentle soul,
Whose wisdom flowed in rivers of ink,
A poet whose heart made us whole,
Whose thoughts made us pause, made us think.

Though he has left this earthly realm,
His spirit lives in every line,
Seamus Heaney, at the poetic helm,
Forever guiding, forever divine.