From horatio@mcs.net Sun Oct 31 23:12:06 1999 Date: Sun, 31 Oct 1999 21:15:31 -0600 From: horatio To: dc-stuff@dis.org Subject: Krystalia Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Rage? Yes, I rage. Impotent rage, of course. Rage, grief, loss, pain, sorrow -- does any of it really matter? It doesn't change anything. The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it. Krystalia touched the lives of a number of people deeply -- and that may be the best any of us can hope for. Think, in this battered Caravanserai Whose Portals are alternate Night and Day How Sultan after Sultan with his Pomp Abode his destined Hour, and went his way. I closed my eyes, only for a moment, and the moment's gone. All we are is dust in the wind ... I feel great sorrow for Steve and Krystalia's parents. Losing a child is one of the deepest pains anyone can experience. And yet, in spite of all, life goes on. live life to the fullest people. Well said, Christian. I've seen too much death already, but it never stops, and it doesn't get easier. All we can do is try to hold on to what we have, and make every minute count. To care is to risk loss, but not to care is not to live. Krystalia cared about other people, so they care about her. The Rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the Rose; The Moon doth with delight Look round her when the heavens are bare; Waters on a starry night Are beautiful and fair; The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath past away a glory from the earth. Sweet dreams, and peace.