So we stood there, like kings of old,
Staring down at the destruction with tired, warn out souls,
Empty eyes glued to our kingdom of ash, ruin, and dust,
Our subjects forgotten memories, hollow victories, and empty blood lusts.
Finally, I fell upon my scrapped knees,
Shoulders shaking with dry heaves.
”How could we let this happen? Where were we…?
When she needed us the most…Oh, how can this be?”
I then felt her sink down beside me, her eyes shining with new formed tears.
And together, we prayed, soft enough so that only the two of us could hear.
It had been so long, I think we might have forgotten how to pray…
But somehow, we found the right words to say.
“It’s only by God’s grace…
That I can still see your face.”
A Abby inspired poem, focusing on Megan and myself after the burial.
This poem was inspired by the death of my dog, and how me and my sister felt when we were buring her. It might seem silly to most people, but it was a very emotional day for us.
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