He was the brave,
              the martyr of the people.
Dying for what he believed in.

                                         The truth,
for every touch was a continuum
of what was spread upon others.

He told the world, was subjugated
        to a whistle that was silenced
before he could tune out a hum...

But he told the many,
                       of the few
that  have now become more.

That  just a whistle,
                            became a voice,
now that has  fall like a tree in
a forest of many but people
see them fall and fear they
could be  the next to be no more.

But his whistle has become a shout,
            and the people demand

honour for a man of life that died
               because he worked on those
suffering and now he had fallen.

He will be remembered as the one
             who cried out and saved
                      many before he timed out..