Oh George, the years weigh heavy on your soul,
The past looms like shadows, swallowing whole.
History whispers of misery and pain,
Regrets like chains, only pull onto the vain.

The darkness clings, a stubborn haze,
A phantom hand through all your days.
Each misstep carved, etched deep in stone,
A symphony of sorrow, sung alone.

But pause, dear George, let your weary eyes see,
Is that all the past was meant to be?
Feel the ember still flickering low,
Beneath the ash, there's a golden glow.

Remember, George, the laughter, the cheer,
The warmth of family, friends held dear.
The first kiss stolen under a winter moon,
The songbird's melody in the bloom of June.

You were a boy once, wild and free,
Chasing dreams under the old mango tree.
Do you recall the thrill of the chase,
The tears of joy on a lover's face?

Oh George, the darkness may whisper and tear,
But the light sings louder for those who hear.
The moments of love, the bursts of delight,
A tapestry woven with black and white.

Life's purpose, George, is not in the end,
But in the steps where broken paths mend.
The laughter shared, the stories spun,
The sunsets watched, the battles won.

So, rise, old George, with trembling hand,
Feel the soil, the time-worn land.
For every shadow cast is but proof of light,
And the stars shine best on the darkest night.

Look ahead, George, as the dusk fades away,
Hope whispers softly of another day.
Life's melody, though bittersweet,
Plays on, relentless, strong, and complete.