Disclaimer: I do not own Angel, that honor would belong to Joss Whedon and whoever else.
A/N: This is a sonnet, though it is not in iambic pentameter.
He was human enough, on his mother's side,
Pressed into service beside the undead.
It was well beyond his control to decide
What visions of horror the Powers chose to send.
The things he saw led them to find
A city's lost souls, downtrod and in need
Of help beyond the human world. He never tried
To be the hero that he turned out to be.
But faced with an enemy too great
For the helpless to fight on their own,
It was a sacrifice he never planned to make,
Until you're tested, you'll never know.
A misunderstood man with an Irish brogue
Gave his life to help those without hope.