These innocent hearts,

Crumble under the weight of

poor decisive souls,

Raining red blotched ashes,

Running like streams.

And here I am,

With a roof above my head,

The ache in my chest too real,

To even imagine their cries.

I pray for the world.

I pray for the innocent.

Anyone can be next.

Written by: Soshinie Singh

Author of The Phoenix Letters and The Mist Calling