Throughout the land some men are swooned with grief and in their hearts’ are but memories of a soul that lived, a dream that was and could have been.
Though the faces of some bear the countenance of shame, your soul dost rest in some distant plain never to lay your eyes upon them again.
Of these words- are truths in vain:
For the dead hear no song from life, a fact that will never change.
What is death but an eternal peace from the storms of life?
And many storms it took before death’s angel came to lay his eyes upon thee to precede thine final call with torments.
I have kept my silence- tears my eyes not to meet.
But through these words I weep, my thoughts lament and immortalize a presence once felt.
A child was born, a light once shone through beaming eyes but now a man has died and so life goes on, all filled with pride.
What shall I say of you, child of man?
What might I add to you besides those spoken from the lips of heaven’s throne most pure and true?
I knew you not but I saw thee much:
Walking in mighty strides, smiling towards the skies and glowing through your impressionable eyes.
Day and night you tilled the sands about thee through victory and defeat.
Sowing with love not to reap,
Working but for what to keep?
Mighty man, valiant heart enduring to the end.
No books penned by thee but all about are things which shall remember thine name.
Disdained and mocked, brushed aside and spat upon by ignorant hearts.
Shall I loathe the thought of thine enemies and hate all humanity when love is what shined from thee more blistering than the noon time sun?
Grace once traced the edge of thine face and words of eloquence departed thy lips like gems.
Men deigned before the power bestowed upon thee and in ordered chains came your success,
A success that cleared the way for many sons this earth to meet.
I stand upon this rock and ask in parting ways:
What is more excellent than to die having accomplished great feats as opposed to have lived drenched in the throes of envy?!
May all men today shaped upon this land and daughters at their mothers’ breasts hear of thee.
May centuries pass this earth but men’s consciences not fail to remember thee.
May all that is august and good shine as a light before the destiny of men that they may find upon this land a place for themselves to shape the greatness of our nation!
Dedicated to Patrick Augustus Mervyn Manning