~ The Voiceless ~
We count the broken lyres that rest
Oliver Wendell Holmes
Where the sweet wailing singers slumber,
But o'er their silent sister's breast
The wild flowers who will stoop to number?
A few can touch the magic string,
And noisy Fame is proud to win them: -
Aslas for those that never sang,
But died with all their music in them.
My deepest sympathy to all of the families and friends of those that fell victim to yesterday's tragedy. You are in my thoughts.
Blessings and love,