“He was mad.” they say. “Through his death he was King again.”
“No.” you want to shout.
“He was an uncle, a brother, a son.
He never believed he was worthy; and yet he was more worthy than he ever knew.
He sang and laughed with his people, fought and bled by their side.
He sacrificed everything he had for them.
He gave us a new home and reclaimed the old.
Do not define him by a moment of weakness, but decades of strength.
Define him by his life, not his death.
Define him as warrior, as leader, as king.
And, as he was to me, a friend.”