Though they lie in stagnant stillness with closed eyes, still, somehow they fly with wings of the inseparable love that they left behind. Indeed, they are buried roses, returned to their origins as seeds, gloriously resprouting anew in the life after — basking in eternally perfect weather, caressed by celestial breezes, where they again hug their lost long mothers and previously downtrodden fathers who transformed into heavenly beings — where there are no tears, or the terror of hopelessness and irrational fears; but where there is indescribable love and a peace that could neve be explained to mortal ears. They are lovers who loved each other deeply without fear. They are immensely loved. They are there.