Phillips
Twas a man of youthful features
Twas a boy of sorrowful eyes
Watching out but looking inward
Tall and stately and full of life
In his life he spoke but rarely
In his mind he cried for light
Painting perceptions trying to capture
That which he saw in his questioning strife
Once in Lisbon, twice in London
Travelling around for all of his time
Looking for and finding a goddess
He took Diana to be his wife
Of the children they'd begotten
Two had died without knowing life
And the third I know not whereof
But if she lives, she will yet be kind
Casey had a mark of simple value
He had a star between his eyes
In his hands he held an axe blade
The Greek symbol of thunder and fire
On a night when the heavens were crying
He went down and took his blade
Chopping wood to warm his hearthside
The lightning came and my brother die
Bring him no wine from faraway vineyards
Tell him no tales of the canyon's might
But wish him peace and eternal wisdom
For he has died and he died in light