In the quiet of a winter’s morn,
A poet’s soul took flight,
Leaving behind whispered words,
In the shadow of the fading light.
His verses danced upon the breeze,
Echoes of a timeless song,
With dreams woven in silver threads,
Where the heart and spirit belong.
Beneath the ancient, knowing stars,
His legacy softly lay,
In the cradle of eternal time,
Guiding souls along their way.
In every heart that feels his words,
His spirit forever roams,
A gentle guide through life’s great tides,
As we seek our distant homes.