Where were we when it came?
We were built so strong with
steel
in our marrow.

It pulled us down.
The chariots came from the sky—
a fury of maddened angels:
their swords like thunder
like crackling lightning in their hands.

And their wings:
smoldering feathers, smoking
lifted them high, spinning in the air;
their arrows shot through the gasoline flame.

I stood there, my hands were dead weights.
Somehow, I stood, my eyes—
locked to the sky. I could see them.

What was I in those dreams?
I carried someone's cross on my back.
In the rain.
Christ could not understand
my pain

It was He who put that cross upon my back
and that yoke around my neck

And there I spun, a ghost
locked in your memory.
White flashes of Hell's teeth pierced the smoke.
God watched me as I burned, and yet—
no objection He spoke.

Iron melted within her hands,
ashes became the rain.
Somehow, my eyes remained open:
Does it hurt?
The flame?

I screamed your name
I cried as you came.

Ashes were the rain, and oh—
The pain.
I remained floating, like
your ghost, trapped in Purgatory walls.

Shadows burned into his hands,
his eyes, they drank the molten bone.
The dancer danced above us

Yet I remained alone.

The dancer spun within the clouds.
Above us, metal ravens screamed.
Their meal—
our bones.

His feet touched our heads
and blasted us to shreds.
His laugh brought Heaven to its knees.

I breathed in the air,
I breathed in your bones.
Your hair, your flesh
had become the rain.

Why was I alive?

Around me, melted flesh lay in heaps
skeleton hands clutched
steering wheels of
flaming automobiles

only shadows remained
seared into my palms—
burned into these walls.

Yet I remained alone.

What madman dreamed of this design?
Whose destiny was it
to turn the children to dust?
Their laugh had turned to rain.

And oh—
The pain.

Once—
I went back.
My tears could not wash away
the blackened testimony
of refusal.
Denial.

Did I do this to myself?
Did I call God's wrath to us all?
I don't know.
Some part of me still screams your name
yet you vanished in the flame

Your face is burned into my brain.
Your ashes are the rain.
And oh—
The pain.