Down in the resting place of the great Dhakaani scholar, she passed
into Kashtai, fragments reunited and the soul faded away.
Her voice and flesh linger still like an echo off marble.
Separated and gone, still here and fighting, quantum bereavement
in which grief twists around the heart like strangling vines
choking out a brief goodbye.
I knew her from when I was young, skilled and headstrong -
bright light that could not be diluted or disputed.
Shining through sunny expressions, eager to see what is there.
So much potential now spent, the oil has ran dry.
And yet she lives still, between the new and old
mingled together like a new born child.
She followed me across the sea to such a strange place
and through actions grew fragmented and cold.
Her lover already passed, her fissure breathes still.
Side by side, we walk together as we once did.
She could have been reckless as a child or proud
in her works but she was still my friend.
il-Yannah greet what has fled and bless what remains.
The psi-crystal comforts where all else fails.