|Philip Seymour Hoffman (courtesy of this site)|
You traveled to the depths of our despair,
And mined the gold of human tragedy.
Cloaked your being with our traits, prepared
Such complex characters, in empathy.
Unique, unparalleled and fearless too,
You searched your soul for evil and disgrace,
Immersed, inhabited that hellish truth,
Translated it; in you we saw our face.
Through you we saw, we're all the same within.
Black hearts, dark holes of boundless emptiness
Unrequited vacuum, self-hate's "sin,"
The endless pain, the horror, the distress.
With heavenly artistry you touched our souls.
May joyous spiritual grace now make you whole.
|PSH speaking at the 92nd Street Y about the film Capote.|