Ashes of Heaven

This is a raw, unfiltered journey through grief, anger, and the slow path toward healing after unimaginable loss.

The song tells the story of someone who lost their sister as a child, then both parents far too soon. It captures that desperate, rain-soaked moment of childhood grief—hands reaching up to a silent sky, begging for answers that never came. The anger that follows. The blame. The years of screaming at heaven until your voice gives out.

Every verse is a conversation with God that feels more like an accusation. Why do the good ones leave? Why sharpen the knife? If you see everything, why didn't you stop this? The holidays become battlefields. Every "I'm fine" becomes a carefully constructed lie. Faith doesn't just fade—it shatters on the floor, leaving only a stranger behind the flame.

But then something shifts.

A quiet breeze. A memory of laughter. A father's hand. A mother's hum. The realization that maybe love doesn't leave the earth when someone dies. Maybe they're still here, dancing in the air, living on in the ones who remember them.

This isn't a song about finding easy answers or tying everything up with a neat bow. It's about learning to live with the questions. About letting go of the anger aimed at the sky. About carrying the people we've lost inside us instead of burying them in blame.

If you've ever lost someone too soon, if you've ever shaken your fist at heaven, if you've ever had to rebuild faith from ashes—this one's for you.