Still alive but barely breathing.
Wide awake while others have no trouble sleeping.
Crying my eyes out for days upon days,
still trying to make sense of what little remains.
Did I see them, did I not?
All I know is that, I heard every shot!
Whether at night, during the day or my deepest thoughts, running away.
My heart races, tummy constrains as panic commences
at the mere thought of flashing lights and thundering beams.
On my knees, I pray to Thy,
a God, I doubtfully believe in.
Questioning, whether this was real or just an ordeal?
All chocked up, wondering, if this was meant to be,
because all my pleas he did not see.
Such a heavy barden placed upon me.
As the house I once called home,
the four walls that I took refuge in,
the purple curtained windows that once shune in light,
the place that once was but is no longer.
Now, just a place
brutally barged upon
stained by death,
Stamped upon by grieving nomates
and violated by protesters.
Now just a place,
I would rather not be...
As she moved on, while I'm still griefing, as no pleading words could stop her bleeding.