Gone too soon, and that we rue
A brighter star we'll wait to see;
our nation's pride, Sam Wanjiru,
reaped from the sky's starry sea.
Happy, you made us; sad now sore,
Mad, failed we to see your true right
amid the accolades and wins more;
tumultuous us, you burning bright.
Now gone, journeyed single way,
Now mourn all friends and foes
of runs long and jaunts short, say
respect and regrets throats force.
A man so rare, a name unique..
to speak, foot after foot, long pace
Bronze, Silver, no Gold to pick;
in cities and roads famed for race.
Toothy smile, sweaty face, nighted!
Where just this morning, peaceful
and full of hope, gilt medal lighted
the slopes of a town alive, blissful.
Nyahururu, where comes another?
Wanjiru, what replaces a true guru?
Dare we speak in pain for bother,
or silently mourn a beacon of Uhuru?
Beijing in Zero Eight, in full rapture
a world held atrance by Marathon.
The gods of Olympus did capture
a glimpse of one fit them to dethrone.
And their ire stoked, didn't subside
plotting with Minerva, to jot demise.
Woman beguiled, money lots beside
This day, against you, we surmise.
Jealousy, greed, desire, inhumanity!
False friendships, faked dalliances;
Now consigned to cavernous vanity,
Head first, proving Death's valiance!
Then again, you always came first,
beating and winning, your prowess;
Should we bewail your utter thirst
to vanquish Death? No, we confess.
Rest in Peace, ChampionWanjiru.