Saturday, 17 June 2017

Fractured Lives

For this Saturday, I have used a poetic form called a "constanza"; it is, of course, about the tragedy at the tower block in London. Let us hope that lessons are finally learned, and for the sake of cost, more lives are not put at risk.

Fractured Lives

The fractured lives will never heal
A time to question, why, O why
No answers come but yet to die

Wings of death now come to steal
Broken, blackened, empty shell
And dying in a burning hell

Come, comfort, hold in arms and feel
Survivors stunned, and others lost
Death count rises, such the cost

Flags at half mast, church bells peal
Silence descends, no words to speak
The future empty and so bleak

Mourners in candlelight now kneel
Grief and weeping grips the crowd
Darkness gathers like a cloud

Last night, some ate their final meal
Came together, broke their bread
Today so many now are dead

Oh where is hope in this ordeal
Fate a thread so fine and thin
Tears falling for the loss of kin

Spinning lady of the silver wheel
Watchful gaze, the cold stars shine
This is the time of darkling wine

The opening of the seventh seal
Death always seeming so unjust
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust

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