4:28 am
She hasn't slept yet.
Work is dragging her by the neck.
Weary is a belt she wears daily
Clueless of why she's making sacrifices
when she doesn't really have to.
4:28 am
A goodbye kiss.
4:28 am
She's praying for a second chance
a vivid sign
she's about to pull the trigger.
4:28 am
He wakes up to another day filled with dread.
5 more mouths to feed —
stomachs grumbling, feet dirty.
He sees through the glass window
and looks at the slippers he'll never get.
4:28 am
She's sits there, studying.
Five long hours have gone,
yet she still isn't ready to take the test.
4:28 am
Thick smoke envelopes the entire room.
Laughter fills an eerie atmosphere.
Was dawn the beginning or the end?
4:28 am
She sits beside his still body,
wondering why they're still together.
4:28 am
They have reached their destination.
She pulls out her trolley, exits the plane.
She sees her family after 3 years.
She's finally home.
4:28 am
He's rushed to the emergency room,
blood splattered everywhere.
He's fighting for something he's not so sure about.
He tries so hard to breathe,
he screams for his mom, his dad,
all the angels and saints,
but nobody hears him.
