This site is dedicated to the memory of Bryan Isaac.

God saw you getting tired,
 When a cure was not to be.
 So He wrapped his arms around you, 
and whispered, "come to me." You didn't deserve what you went through, 
So He gave you rest.
 God's garden must be beautiful,
 He only takes the best And when I saw you sleeping,
 So peaceful and free from pain 
I could not wish you back 
To suffer that again.

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