Chris Cornell

Your mind was a garden
of rhythm and words,
sung out in four octaves,
touching the wounded souls
in this world with gentle hands.

Your mouth was a white flag,
begging for forgiveness
and peace,
whispering prayers
to anyone who'd listen.

We learned your words,
we sang along,
but we never listened.

No one does.

The darkness swallowed
you up like a black hole
and we all stand shocked
in the sunlight of today,
wondering what went wrong?

You had everything, didn't you?
What shadows followed you
besides your own?

We'll never know.

Your life ended
before we could find
the right questions.

Say hi to heaven for us.