They shall recall
fragments of you.
Your past.
Your future.
Biding farewell
at the darkest hour.
There you lay
with roses tinged white,
a sight, like art.
And in static handwriting,
your name
be drizzled, in soft italics,
delicately, like craft.
They mumbled
Au revoir.
The voices of the living exhale,
in echo with the relief—

You lived,
have lived,
unforgotten.