Ashes of Heaven

You were supposed to be the light in the dark. The hand that

catches us when everything falls apart. But I was a kid with

my hands in the rain, begging the sky and hearing nothing but pain.

Took my sister first, no warning signs, just a heartache frozen

in time. A small white box and a Sunday prayer. Tell me,

God, were you even there? If you see all,

if you breathe life, then why do you sharpen the knife?

Why do the good ones fade away and leave the rest of us