Disclaimer: I own nobody, at all...all names, characters, etc. belong to respected owners.
The trees swayed in a loud and crazy motion. The wind sang a happy song, expressing all the joys that it had. The Wind was happy.
The rain came down mockingly, the Sky was not crying for a death of a hero, friend, lover, the Sky was laughing. The Sky made fun of people.
All the people, dressed in black, huddled around the box containing there friend, cried. They cried for him, because of him. Not one of them could hold back the pain they felt. Not one. They carried there broken hearts in bags, because it had splintered and broken into hundreds of small pieces. The People were broken shells of what they once where. The death of a hero can do that.
So the wind was happy, the Sky was making fun of people, and the People were broken shells. The Pain controlled all there lives as roses, mementos were placed down and objects of inside jokes shared between friends were placed on the coffin. Images and memories of this great person played around and around in the mourners heads. They all cried for the Death of there Hero. They all cried for the Death of the person that meant the most to every body.