*Cerri sits next to the mausoleum in the Benwick hollow graveyard, quite uncomfortable with the amount of grief on her shoulders. Doing what she believed any good bard would do during a time of extreme emotion, she took quill to parchement*

*After leaving the first draft atop Bryce's coffin in the Kelemvor temple, She pens a second and third draft. One slipped under the Cordorian Barracks door, the third, pinned amongst the notice clutter in Cordor itself.*

In death,
Let sleeping dogs lie.
Bark and bite both worse before we die.
Eternal rest sounds lovely when living we stand,
but see how heavily time weighs on our loved ones hands.

When our presence removed leaves void and woe,
amongst mourners forgetful, deep down they know.
Day by day, the wounds shall slowly close.
Each love declaration, each delicate prose;

These words serve to heal those most effected.
Fond memory, laughter, our pain soon deflected.
Naught left but remembrance to fill in the hole...
that the shell...over time...became too small
for such a grand soul.

Cerri~

_________________
We are all here on earth to help others; what on earth the others are here for I don't know.

*pausing a moment as he passes by this in Cordor, Warrick quietly tilts his head, nodding to himself and seeming to think on the piece before moving on*