Like a fire in a forest,
the illness quickly spread,
from the bottom of his feet the the crown of his dear head.

The illness I speak of is deadly,
and can often not be cured,
and when he finally dies, in the ocean his ashes will be poured.

He lost this tragic battle,
but in memory he will forever last,
because he is every breeze,
every star,
every single blade of grass.