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.