I lit the match with trembling hands, not to see but to forget. The chapel groaned. The sky went black. And all the names I tried to scream were swallowed by the cracks. Ashes don’t pray. They burn and stay. No saints, no signs, just dust and flame! I kissed the fire and it remembered my name. I held a mirror to the storm, and saw what I had done. No god wept. No star blinked. Only silence pulling strings on a marionette sun. So let it fall the cathedral, the clock. Let the angels forget. Let the devil knock. Ashes don’t pray. They never did. They simply wait for the wind.
