An impromptu poem I composed for her:
Decked in flowers,
Swaddled in gold filigreed shrouds,
Smeared with perfume,
She travels to the world beyond,
A life of love lived,
A life of more giving than taking,
Living a life of choices,
Turnings, and crossing she had missed.
She lies besides father,
In a grave prearranged for her,
Knowing she would accompany him,
In this last stage of creation,
When we all must self destruct.
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