The pen has fallen
the last page remains unwritten.
Neither one of us expected that it would be sooner than soon. Both of us knew that you were sick. Complicated diabetes, you said. But you always had your way of lightening grave matters and your sense of humor was an unfathomable abyss.
You were writing a book then. The real world of a jester. You said it's unfinished, but unfolding nicely and then....
For whom the bell tolls.
You once read that to us, years and years passed. Now the bells' tolling for you. I won't be there, you know. But I will pray for you.
Thank you, dear and trusted friend