The Color Of Bombs

The sky is the color of bombs.
And the clouds are grey like it's smoke.
There's no blue to be seen and the grass isn't green,
And the air smells like fire and rain.

The ashes have drowned out the ground.
The oxygen's been sucked away.
She feels all alone as she stands in her home
Where sorrow is all that's left to gain.

In the wreckage her hands coat with dirt,
As she looks for the ones that she loves.
She picks up the pieces of her home, and her reasons
To cry are all justified.

Finding Mother tangled within Father's arms,
With their breath in a permanant pause
Her brother's heart doesn't beat, she leans back on her feet
To scream and mourn "Why, oh why?"

The sky is the color of bombs
As she stands all alone and afraid
She's losing her mind as she struggles to find
A reason to keep going on

Her family's been burned away
It's the end of the world in her mind
If you had no home to return to, it would tear, it would burn you,
Your soul filled with the color of bombs.