This present tragedy with eventually turn into myth,
The pain of this moment will fade in the memory of those not present,
And yes, they will tell of it,
But by then it will be simply a story,
Lacking the emotion we now share.
This will be another one of those loose changes,
A random place, choice of death, and person,
But is it truly random,
I think it more so the selection of those worthy only at the point they were at,
Any longer on this earth, and their perfection would have been ruined.
Look, we will say,
You can see them in the fourth dimension of time,
Captured in all their essence of the way you remember them,
Never again can they let you down, or cause you pain,
A poor trade for never again allowing them to fill your life with warmth and joy.
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