And he was one of a kind,
One who didn't know inhibitions,
And he knew no fear.
The God's child, I'd say,
For, he sung in words,
That seemed divine.
And he created the music too..
His fingers strum the strings,
Like butter was meant for bread,
A man honest, caring and a genius,
Beyond what words could describe,
A gem, I'd say.
I do not mean much,
In this world so fast,
But in my passive tone, I'd say..
May you sing songs of joy,
Of friends, of love,
Of destinations, of journeys..
I will listen to them all,
Repeating till eternity,
Perhaps until,
You write your story down.
And then play your songs,
On repeat,
Again for eternity.
