Flakes of ash, as fragile as fresh snow,
Fall from the heavens to us below.
Not as white, but still as pretty to see,
All the ash that’s covering me.

Flakes of ash drift through the air,
Dancing with the wind with impeccable care
Evenly coating everything from far and near
Forming a shell around what I used to hold dear

NO! It won’t have me in its trance.
I won’t be mystified by its mysterious dace.
I won’t let it build its petrifying shell,
And encase me on the spot where I fell.

I will fight back, I won’t stand down
I will stand up with the strength I have found.
It wasn’t me who caused all this mess
I know it was you, even if you don’t confess

You point your finger toward me, but very little you knew.
Everyone knew that this was your doing; it’s not me, it’s you.