| Smash the glass for our days grow dim, And we will not see Bali once again. Brian, he bore a warrior’s name He was famous at eighteen. Some days he was hard to love, And yet few did hate the man. Gone the flame, yet he will still remain my Only brother, nothing that way, will change. Like burning Bali bodies, transmuted he is….. to what I don’t know. Where are you going? Round the bend! Where you going, the question rings, As Merapi erupts again, the ashes swirling Down and Shiva wins yet again. Smash the glass for our days grow dim, And we will not see Bali again. Brian, he bore a warrior’s name, He was famous at eighteen. I cry as much for myself as for him. Uselessly I store these words to some Writing machine’s false memory bank; False, for so many reasons. False, if I say I was the same as this man. False if I say I was not…some days I wish that I could feel famous too. For his fearless days are still known by some, For fame is built just that way. And his warrior name was Brian Smash the glass for our days grow dim, And we will not see Bali again. Jeff Lynch, Ballater, Scotland, June 21, 2006 |