Lord there is little to say, little to do.
I cannot even cry.
I cannot even raise my voice
to shout their names to the heavens.
Lord I have known Your grief,
felt, for fleeting moments,
the weight of Your burdens.
I would not ask You to carry more
if I did not know You would do so anyway.
Find my murdered siblings, I pray.
Bear witness to their screaming,
their crying, their raging
as I do, then I beg You
do what I cannot.
Smooth the roughness of Your hands,
gather them close
and carry them beyond this world.