The bleached bones of burned out homes lay smouldered ‘neath a crimson sky,
While all around the choking fumes claw the backs of throats,
And those safely on boats can only look back and ask, “Why,”
While, “Anchors,” do their piece to camera and journalists take notes,
And tears are shed for loved ones who didn’t make it out,
And heavy sighs lament the skies that cloak the smoking lands,
Tight lips hold back grief as furrowed brows harbour doubt,
That once the flames have burned out, will anything still stand,
And platitudes are uttered, because we don’t know what to say,
Hugs in short supply, though not for want of caring,
It’s a cold world under a hot sky where, “Social distance,” still holds sway,
And we wonder how those who stay to fight the flames are faring,
And slowly but surely, the ferry leaves the beach behind,
And all that we can do is shed a tear for all that’s lost,
And the stark cost of our ignorance fills each and every mind,
As thoughts turn to memories and the blood red sea is crossed,
And yet we know that this is but a taste of what’s to come,
As our precious world burns and drowns in swift succession,
And it slowly dawns on everyone, the harm that we have done,
Though no harm was meant, and it is a bitter lesson,
And with all possessions gone, all that’s left is hope,
Hope that we can act and have not left it too late,
No more empty words from politicians, no more, “Soft soap,”
Set our jaws, set our course and hope that we can hold straight,
For a new light hits the land that wakes under a rising Sun,
Piercing bright and strong enough to burn the lies away,
And we beg the world’s forgiveness though we knew not what we’d done,
And pray that we can put it right in the light of this new day.