Farewell to the son of the sunset hair,
your sun has set too soon.
The sky is mourning in its lair,
her cries obscure the moon.
The world grows dark upon your course,
for one less light here shines;
the weeping wind blows rain clouds hoarse,
for sunset hair she pines.
Dedicated to the young man who tragically lost his life last night. Your world mourns you…