In the hush of a February night, Brison's laughter still echoes, pure and bright. Barely 22, yet worlds he'd known, In hard love's embrace, his spirit shone. Tired of battles with cells thickly Rife, He yearned for a life beyond constant strife. Smiles, his armor, against the tide, In rare beauty, his soul did abide. Norms, mere garments he never wore, In his embrace of difference, he soared. But on love's pledged day, the weight did bear, Too much for a heart worn threadbare. In memory, let his courage sing, A testament to the strength he'd bring. He loved hard and worked harder, unbroken true, A rare breed, in all he chose to pursue.