Shailendra

 

He belonged to the days forgotten

Only his memory stayed fresh, never rotten

Different people he was, needed by many

Loved divided equally, always plenty

Days pass by yet the he lingers on

Stuck between worlds, unable to pass on

A friend, a companion and so much more

He died for those he loved, the brave pain he bore

A martyr to a single soul

To others a memory left out in the cold

As the winds swirl and the trees dance

I think back on how it ended by chance