Upon the Death of Avijit Roy in Dhaka

A paragon of tolerance,
Avijit Roy, and his wife also,
Who looked at violence askance— 
Why should their violent fate befall so?

Attacked and hacked both by machetes,
Returning from a book fair—they
Were suddenly surprised, beset: he's
Now dead, and she may go that way.

"Secular humanist" he called
Himself, did not believe in God;
Now death leaves decency appalled
While murderers gloat murders proud.

The hand is stilled which held the pen,
The voice is silenced; but resounds
The echo of his truthful ken
In living words which bear no wounds.

So they that strive to squelch the truth
Via heinous acts upon the gentle
But prove themselves coarse, cruel, uncouth
Despite their God: it's fundamental.