Recovery

It’s been 6 months
182 days
Half a year
Yet I still feel
The pain and the fear
The city had its two front teeth knocked out
Yet my heart’s been ripped out
I still see the hand
I still cringe at headless mannequins
A friend of mine says he saw a foot land
Could his foot and my hand
Belong to the same man?
My brother-in-law is a fire lieutenant
He lost 9 men
How does he cope?
Where is his hope?
His wife has black clothes on her bed
Always ready
To bury the dead
As my wife’s breeds new life
I must still deal with the strife
It’s not a God these men serve
It’s a demon with horns that curve
The city will rebuild
But will I?
Only if I can look
Beyond the empty sky
To the One who will hear my cry