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Tragedy invades the stillness of time,

A perennial gatecrasher at life's party,

Hell-bent on smashing the status quo.

Tragedy strikes with the force of a cyclone,

To suck life from the living and bake tears

Dry, arid and crusted like a riverbed.

Tragedy takes down lives of the innocent,

A tower block demolition whose survivors 

Wander like ghosts in a derelict house.

Tragedy leaves us wracked and riddled,

Dark and pained as widows eyes, carrying 

Grief inside buckets of cast-iron hurt. 

Tragedy departs as we drift in the black

Freezing fog of night-time permanence, 

Now just dust, at the whim of the wind.




◄ A Sweet Victory For The Solemn

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Paul Waring

Tue 24th Jan 2017 13:47

Thanks so much for spotting the typo Col! The piece now stands corrected! Paul

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Paul Waring

Mon 23rd Jan 2017 23:26

Thank you Stu for these compliments. I am very grateful to you and am so pleased that you enjoyed this. Paul

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Stu Buck

Mon 23rd Jan 2017 21:52

beautifully written paul and some great individual ideas and lines, such as the tears baking dry. the final line is also very pleasing.

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