Please tell me, dear, that when you fell
You did not regret your last flight.
We need to hear that you did not grieve,
That you did not doubt or cower
In the face of your final choice.

I once heard that from that height,
Water plays the roles of cement,
Breaking bones and shattering lives.
So I need you to tell me that the sea was gentle
And the breeze was pleasant.

Please tell me, dear, that you are there
In each salty drop
That you are present in each thundering wave
And in each seagull’s call.
Please tell me, Peanut,
That instead of losing life, you became it.