You fall, you stumble, you miss a step,
Your life is played backward,
The moments you had, the good, the bad,
Up till his journey skyward.

In the beginning, you're numb,
You still don't understand,
You can't encompass the loss,
You refuse to abandon the hand.
You decline to think,
You fail to acknowledge,
You feel the on the brink
Of capsizing due the knowledge.

The world crumbles, and you don't care,
For it's ruined already for you;
Now all that remains from the person you knew
Is a name that cannot begin to contain his value.
His spirit, his essence, the man that he was,
Will henceforth be only in memory.
You have the burden of carrying his story,
Of living, while he is now history.