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.