lily2301
It's not what happens when a baby's born,
It's not what happens when someone recovers from illnesses.
It's not what happens when my little brother makes the final shot that wins the last game, no, that's no miracle.
Miracles are much more complexingly simple.
Close your eyes,
trust me.
Take a deep breath.
There. A miracle.
Fires. Fires in the sky,
kind of like clouds.
But instead the color of my brother's hair.
Flaming red, on the tips turning light orange from the sun.
The Fires. What are they from?
From the mills,
from the grass,
from the bodies.
But the Fires aren't the worst of it.
The War's what caused it.
What caused it all,
what caused them to throw his body in the ditch.
Now his hair's in the sky.
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