The Hands of Fate

"A praise of sorts to a friend that I hold dear,

a breed of man that seems to me a generation lost,

if for him I had one wish it'd be these words to hear,

for cause of him I count it joy that our paths had crossed.

There was a day my heart had ached for a companion to be,

that is when this dear soul by fortune befriended me.

Born to poverty he had all rights to act and bitter be,

but had not I known I'd guessed he was of royalty.

His thoughts and deeds, day by day,

proved his boundless loyalty.

Never could I ask of him a more noble friend to be.

Closer than the sun and stars,

partners till the end were we,

hours did we devote to playing on our guitars.

A secret dream of his a musician to be by trade,

all day to play for crowds and folks to hear,

but no faith had he in the compositions he had made,

I'd tell him people would have loved his songs,

if only he were here.

A valarous man, sad but precious, and my only mate,

I wish it were as simple as changing a clock,

to change the hands of fate, it crushes me so,

that it is something only to be viewed after, 

for you see the other morn,

I found my only friend hanging from a rafter."

Never take anyone for granted.