Her suffering ended with the day;
Yet lived she at its close,
And breathed the long, long night away,
In statue-like repose. But when the sun, in all his state,
Illumed the eastern skies,
She passed through glory’s morning-gate,
And walked in Paradise!
Big Brother Gone
Day by day, I think of you. How can all of this be true? I can’t believe you’re really gone; I still can’t accept it,