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 I lit a candle in the ancient church

Set it burning there with a borrowed flame

Amongst ikon saints and high vaulting arch

To flicker for a while in your name.

It was not a prayer more a memory

And a signal for tears unshed ‘til then

And the shadows it made were cast on me,

You were gone, and not to be seen again.

There is a church not far from Larnaca

Where the candle has guttered and gone,

But the flame lives on in the hearts of us here,

Will burn bright for you as a benison.

You gave out such light in your few, short years,

And will shine clear and strong beyond these tears.