All ears listened to the words now sung aloud

by angels passing close to death's long shroud

the brave knight had fallen, yes, his battle sadly lost

yet from the fabric of common lives the higher cost

Fluttering flutes and weeping violins grace the frigid air

around the lifeless form of a young man left lying there

the heavy shield to guard his heart now flung to one side

for the old lie of pure violence which far too many men abide

Women and angels blessing him in prayer and flowers given

ones they told that matched his gentle soul once long-living

a mother and sister's mourning worn in blackness bold

and angels their poor souls with feathered wings enfold

Glorious in death he traipsed across the tips of distant stars

and the angels claimed him for their own but he was ours

in concert  their open arms carried him through heaven's gate

with the kind of music that only Gods and angels could create