Like the eruption of a volcano,
Or, the tremor of an earth quake,
Instilling the deepest inner fear,
The little children are now awake.
Breaths are held, 'til there is pain,
Terrified lest it comes into the room,
Shattering of glass, a terrible scream,
Overwhelmed by the sense of doom.
Thump, thump, thump, on the stairway,
Scrambling, how quickly they all run,
A painful sob, heard from a distance,
Each hidden safely, fear is not fun.
How can any child survive this misery,
Now grown up, families of their own,
Many hard lesson were taught to them,
Still, deeply within, is a painful moan.
Copyright © 1996-98 Belda J. Covington
All works found within these pages are the sole property of the author unless otherwise stated.