I wrote this poem in preparation for The Reichenbach Fall. It goes through each person that Sherlock deems to be of importance in his life. I hope you're all as unprepared as I am.
The Man of the Falls
Solving the problems, making the plans,
Moving through life with such haste.
His life is different, like no other man's;
He is the man of the case.
Onward she goes, muddling through,
Though lost thoughts are clouding her head.
What she has lost, she hasn't a clue;
She is the woman of the dead.
He offers encouragement, wilting support,
He sees, despite how blind his cause is.
Struggling to offer a strong-willed retort;
He is the man of justice.
Silent are her moves, harsh are her ways,
Then she'll vanish and become history.
She teases and taunts, and then never stays;
She is the woman of mystery.
A careful guardian, a keeper of men,
She watches and makes peace like a dove.
She cares for her children like a mother hen;
She is the woman of love.
Constant and frightening, always he is there,
A more menacing man you won't find.
Love and mercy are not burdens he'll bear;
He is the man of the mind.
He watches over all, his eyes always on you,
In his hands the country he'll hold.
It is to him that all your debts will be due;
He is the man of the cold.
Strong-willed and clever, possibly mad,
From his partner never will he part.
A doctor, a friend, the only one had,
He is the man of the heart.
The man of the case is now nearly lost,
As he stands back and watches them all.
To save these people is what his life cost;
He is the man of the falls.