I know nothing of this boy, yet something compelled me to write;
About a boy named Anzil Crasto, who stood for what was right;
He is missed now by his dear ones, for death knocked his door;
As they all bow their head with tears, they'll miss him to the core...
With a bag on his shoulder, he would rush to school;
Stretching out his hands, Andy's hair he would pull;
Who would ever knew, a day would ever come like this;
Friends will cry, oh.. how he'll be missed...
Yes, he had a future, a priest he wished to be;
He's far away from us, heaven it's called we cannot see;
Hopes and thoughts have indeed been shattered;
Never his presence, but now his absence matters...
The pictures and sketches so sadly drawn;
The memories he left will go on and on;
He said his goodbyes so unexpectedly;
If only he'd invite us too, we'd join him fearlessly...
'May your soul rest in peace', hurts when we say;
No matter what happens, the pain would not go away;
With a belief in our words, and our heart so heavy;
May he find his peace, in the arms of mother Mary...
