When disaster strikes
it is the result
of years of mischance…

Be it Hiroshima or Nagasaki
or be it just a death of a loved one
when disaster strikes,
there are no tears to flow
all the tears are dried
and gone to the land of the dead…

It comes first as a trickle
and then becomes a deluge
a deluge drowning in it
people, emotions, sentiments
into the far unknown…

No one can replace
what is once gone
there is no way
to flee from the gloom
like a flock of migrating swallows
retreating into the twilit sky
over the ocean sparkling with
the beautiful moonlight…

When disaster struck
it was as though
all of a sudden
the horrors of life
had descended from
hell striking each blow
with a knife…

Monstrous horrors, inflicting
indiscriminately death
mutilation, irreparable loss
of life, love, hatred
the result being devastating…

Some went to heaven
some to hell
but how is one to know
what happened
to those children
who were killed
even before they
lived…