Sonnet number forty-one. Oh hey! One with more than just Buffy and Angel in it! Totally appropriate. Also, the reason I don't have little happy floating heads of Gunn, Lorne, and Spike would be because they aren't dead (the inanimate kind), his kid, or his soulmate.

"Well personally, I kinda want to slay the dragon. Let's go to work."

I wouldn't have had the nerve to end such an awesome series the way Joss did. Ergo, I am not Joss. And I'm also not Elizabeth Barrett Browning, although that would be pretty cool, since it'd mean that I'd come back from the dead.

Text of sonnet:

I thank all who have loved me in their hearts,
With thanks and love from mine. Deep thanks to all
Who paused a little near the prison-wall
To hear my music in its louder parts
Ere they went onward, each one to the mart’s
Or temple’s occupation, beyond call.
But thou, who, in my voice’s sink and fall
When the sob took it, thy divinest Art’s
Own instrument didst drop down at thy foot
To harken what I said between my tears, . . .
Instruct me how to thank thee! Oh, to shoot
My soul’s full meaning into future years,
That they should lend it utterance, and salute
Love that endures, from life that disappears!