At rest… at rest from what? – from a promising life? No living being has ever been so bright… nor has any ending been so tragic. Why? God, why doth though insist on punishing me so? Why hast thou bitterness against me? Now every happiness is artificial, every breath seems so worthless. No living being is perfect until thou loveth them, and oh, fair Lucy was perfect. Now look at her, her motionless body laying there, deprived of life; ne’er will I again gaze upon the exquisite face that belonged to thee. No, today I will not mourn her death, I will rejoice, for she lived! Sleep well, my darling Lucy, we shall soon meet again.
Tonnes of love,
| Lucy |
| 24, Apr 2003 |
| Sue, Jess, Luke $ Alex Tobia |