White streaks in the blue sky.

There it is - spiraling, I shriek, to stop another screaming.

Blue sky beyond, white streaks overlap each other. On the end of each - death.

Triggered, a finger is shaken. A finger, shaking on a trigger.

What have I done, I did what I had to - they both believe this. But - are blind, to who lies behind the white stripe, in the blue sky. The dark passenger they have sent each other has already arrived.

A woman? A child? They are blind, to the ripping heartache. A shriek says nothing - a scream isn't even possible now.

Blind to even exactly why, just because, it's come to this. Because, it's the only thing that feels strong, now. The only thing that feels like real power; that feels like it means anything, to anyone - to the world.

White streaks in the blue sky.

Anxious hearts, paused brilliance, children ripped from lessons. Again, we must head to the shelter of smashing dreams, emptied hearts are falling. Stop now, and come with us - this is real.

Brown and black clouds, paired together like lovers - but this isn't love. Ambers and oranges, torn apart like the lives behind them. All the colors of life are behind them.

Replaced with brown, black, grey, white, and more black. And for what? Because, it's the only thing that feels strong. Because, words weren't enough? Because, words weren't heard?

Blood, so red, and so final - because words didn't work.

Why, my dear lord, couldn't words have worked.