She sat on the ground.
She thought of only the truth,
Which left her back in one frail position.
The smell of the smoke, the silence of the crash.
Maybe she will try to understand.
Just having to think of that very moment, will send a fresh chill to each single bone.
The sky clouding up her prayer, to you.
The acquired strength she may grasp.
Her gentle weeps embody many.
The world still may be turning, she notices.