Gently moving from inactivity in response to the wind,
Half floating the body lies, face submerged in water,
The ripples spreading outward, disturbing the leaves in their serenity.

Standing by the lake, his thoughts melting in depression,
His ruffled clothes mirroring the state of his mind, he waits,
Gently moving from inactivity in response to the wind,

Why does he stand there, you would ask,
If indeed you noticed him there by the waters,
The ripples spreading outward, disturbing the leaves in their serenity.

Upon his face, reflecting his thoughts of death,
His tears make their dirge-like way past his cheeks,
Gently moving from inactivity in response to the wind,

Strange resolution showing in his still damp eyes,
Answering in answer to unasked questions that ruffle the waves,
The ripples spreading outward, disturbing the leaves in their serenity.

His eternal question stilled forever on his tongue,
He gives his final words to the world he has rejected;
Gently moving from inactivity in response to the wind,

He plunges his knife deep within his heart, and falls,
His Body lifelessly indicating the hopelessness of his fate:
The ripples spreading outward, disturbing the leaves in their serenity.

Surrounded by his red watery shroud, he lies,
His pain in death denying any answer.
Gently moving from inactivity in response to the wind,
The ripples spreading outward, disturbing the leaves in their serenity.

                                                                  1976