It sounds like he died as a real man should - after starting something more important than one man's life. I salute him.

I liked this Christmas photo of Matt (Devolution) and Annonafox so much I saved it. Here it is again for everyone to see for his memory. It's so sad when someone dies young but I believe in God's gift of eternal life and that Matt lives on on the other side. :angel7:

What a nice photograph !

Matt
 

DEAREST MATT, NO WORDS CAN EXPRESS THE GRIEF OF LOOSING YOU. YOU WERE MY HOPE FOR THE FUTURE, BUT SADLY YOU WENT BEFORE ME.WHEN I SHAKE OFF THIS EARTHLY COIL WE SHALL MEET AGAIN IT MAY BE YEARS, BUT WHEN IT COMES WE WILL HAVE ETERNITY TOGETHER. I AM MISSING YOU SO MUCH DEAR


YOUR LOVING MUM AGATESTONE:icon_cry:

Bless you and your family Agatestone xx

id would just like to say how i love this place and even though some stuff has been lost i hope we can get it back to be as good as ever and thanks for creating this place :D

Biggest hugs ever, from one grieving mom to another.

May you and the rest of the family experience joyous revelations this holiday season and beyond~

:hug:

To Matt's family and friends, may the comfort of God help you during this difficult time. When we lose someone we love, it seems that time stands still.

I think Matt would like this song. It is Judy Collins singing the William Butler Yeats poem The Song Of Wandering Aengus. She calls it The Golden Apples Of The Sun:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ygQGVG8yHoE .

W.B. Yeats (1865–1939). The Wind Among the Reeds. 1899.

9. The Song of Wandering Aengus


I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And someone called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done,
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.

Rest in Peace, Matt . You are missed.