Hands stained, dripping with
blood; I feel myself shake with
dread as guilt surrounds me that
I couldn't save all the dead.
Bodies crumpled as they penetrate the rubble.
Musak can be heard over the cracking and snapping
as bodies tumble and fall.

Rescuers walk with fear, underneath their scrubs and
turnout gear.

Dear Lord, forgive us for what we could not do.
Our hands tied by the evil ones.
But who are we to know how many souls you needed to
fill the hall of innocence. We are vessels
that do your work. We are rescuers and healers
but we are only witnesses to the ultimate Savior;
our forever rescuer.

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