Crying His Tears

Love and heroism touched his heart.

He was a man who could be moved to tears.

His death caused me to think that we must part

for many years — oh, far too many years.

'He leaves an essence with you,' said a friend.

My smile was wry. 'That's not how it appears.

He's gone, and our communion's at an end.'

But then I read a military tale

of courage under fire, and I found

my heart expanding. Soon my eyes were full,

though I'm a pacifist. I recognised

this was an emotion he would feel.

His essence is still here, I realised.

He's with me as they say, within my heart.

(A disguised Terza Rima sonnet)

Missed linking this to the Form ForAll prompt at dVerse, 
so submitting instead to their Open Link Night #96