John

Seven years a glimpse gone by,

I'll never forget when John died,

Knew for a short time always the case,

Dealt with demons everyday he faced,

Turned to the usual suspects,

Some stayed the demons others worked less,

Hidden torment most would never know,

The final days are clouded in snow,

An evening at it's end we retire,

Turns to go home situation dire,

Alone at night a demon crept,

Snaked it's way his mind it leapt,

One pull and no more pain,

The mortal wound renders slain,

I think back to his common greeting,

Memory is crisp yet seemingly fleeting,

Burned in my mind those words were,

You are a Gentlemen and a Scholar sir