We were walking with Him, hand in hand,
For years that stretched like sacred sand.
Five decades deep in whispered prayer,
A trust built strong, a love laid bare.
My mother’s voice, so known above,
Was steeped in reverence, wrapped in love.
A bond with God so pure, so true
We never thought He’d undo the view.
But then it came, without a sound,
No thunder crack, no warning found.
Just silence, sudden, sharp and wide
And her whole world split open, blind.
She dreamed it once, months long before
A shadow knocking at her door.
She saw him gone, her spirit torn,
And begged the Lord to not be sworn.
She prayed with tears, she fasted days,
Poured all her soul in sacred praise.
And slowly, light began to gleam
She thought God heard, redeemed the dream.
She smiled again, the dark seemed gone,
She sang to Heaven, carried on.
But it was time, not grace, that passed
The dark was waiting, still held fast.
He raised her hope, He let her trust
Then turned her prayers into dust.
She prayed that night, as always done,
While Heaven came and took her son.
He didn’t hint, He didn’t warn,
Just reached His hand, and left us torn.
Her son her heart was gone that day,
And all His grace felt stripped away.
We’d trusted Him with every breath,
Through storms, through fire, through near-death.
But nothing spoke, no signs, no light
Just blackened sky and shattered night.
How could the One who knew her soul,
Forget the price, forget the toll?
To take so swift, to give no clue,
And watch her break and struggle through?
The altar cracked beneath her knees,
The years of worship met the freeze.
The psalms she sang turned into cries,
As Heaven dimmed before her eyes.
So now we walk through fractured days,
Still reaching up, in silent praise.
But something sacred slipped away,
When the Almighty looked away.
We’re still praying, still searching souls,
Still asking why the bell now tolls.
What did we do? What did he bear,
To vanish into unanswered air?
Who claims the cost of all these cries,
These heartaches born from silent skies?
Does one not earn a chance to smile
A breath of peace, if just a while?
Why let him cry until the end,
No light, no break, no soul to mend?
He sweat through storms to feed his own,
Yet You chose him to walk alone.
—The Wounded Fighter