The heartbeat of your torment reverberates through my memory.
You saved yourself from never-ending anguish, clutched onto your only solution. Even though I’ll never accept that you are at peace, I praise every second spent with you. You burned too bright for this folly world.
I believe that you’re looking at us at this moment of grief and smiling protectively, as you always did. I know that death didn’t take you, it couldn’t – you are still here, in my heart you are too bright, too strong.
“Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.”1
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