No mask could disguise your wise nature;
ye high scholar, who yet does retain a
moving soul within his line, with an ear
tuned to silence as you expound upon bold
situations, hidden in age old remote spaces
without nomenclature: for though you remain
plagued in an endless Drama, and are of the cost
aware, you write with wit the writ, and thru this
protect it's characters from the public with honor,
by filling the page with secret clues to these truths
which you must declare or suffer.

You are a man on fire, on whom despair does cause
pause, because for all of us does dismal loss bring the
gloom of the sepulcher. So ever remain a man over whom
thy decease cannot loom like stormy weather; a king over
his subject matter, who wilt remain a preceptor who is not
to be beset by savage settlers.

The ring of fellowship did entertain you in youth, and
glorious is the power of heavenly sovereignty on thy
conscious existence's tall stature! And forthright you stir
a generation into childlike veneration at an earnest
endeavor, bethinking before long thy charity of knowledge
shall carry thee into the halls of academic history,
( like all great philosophers.)

And thru systematic theory you taught us to ask ourselves
this problematic query, " If a man's slowly dying emotions
cannot continue alive internally, were they not dyed with
fugitive colors?"