How dare the blue skies shine today,
halfway around the world.
How dare the air be light
and the sun be jolly,
when a world away
it is not.
The skies should cry
as I did.
As I do.
The should be dark,
be stormy,
be wrought with grief.
For the pictures I see,
the stories I hear,
they come from a different place,
a different time,
the unimaginable,
the unbelievable.
We thought she would stand forever,
matriarch,
mother,
matron.
She had seen much,
seen it all.
The city watches,
heartbroken
as their beloved Lady is brought low,
as history
stumbles
onto
her
knees,
time’s knife at her throat.
An unearthly orange reflects into the sky,
into their eyes,
as she
bleeds
out.
Her people keep vigil by her side.
Their voices lift into the night,
together mourning,
together searching,
as she bleeds,
as she burns.
Their words will forever haunt nations,
haunt history.
Fading into darkness,
into time.
Ave Maria.
Our Lady.