Ten years ago, you died in pain;
who knows what kind of horror
had been haunting your inner domain
that would soon be deprived of a tomorrow...
I don't really know your story,
just what I have read and heard;
but a gloomy illness did worry
your face on the pictures, a bit blurred....
I get it that you studied too much,
two years you took as a one alone,
excellent grades, in your free time you touched
with hope and faith the yoga books ... of stone.
I caress your ghostly face,
because I feel how you sought God,
and let forever your holy grace
shine over your past life's prevailing thought.
It was a successful life mission,
although it ended so tragic.
Your innocent quest for God in the face of contrition
wipes off the weary tears, turning them into magic.
Rejoice now and be free of ~
whatever dreadful mystery haunted you
even your mother's sorrowful love
that keeps you grounded, but she doesn't have a clue.
I love you and I am proud of you.
May there be more pure people like you around.
Falling down is flying too,
I heard that you silently cried for an end ... what a sound.
Suicide or not, one thing is true...
you were full of virtues and still are
there was something very honest about you...
and hear me out, while the shining star
rises above your head to announce
that you have home returned, in salvation
the healing shower cures your wound profound
and it proclaims: Life eternal is, my child;
Be lifted, frustration!