In life he loved,
by Velmar Pewee Hale Johnson
in death he wept.
In life he hated,
in death he waited.
In life he knew what was to come,
in death not knowing should he stay or run.
In life he held a passion for, Janen, his wife,
in death all pain was released by the stab of her knife.
Glinting with a shine from the full moons glow,
in death he knew his wife was the one who made him go.
Wings from an angel, halo upon his head,
in death he knew he was better off being dead.