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.