Burnt bricks tumbles to the ground,
While tears choke,
Concealed cries by sirens sound
Carrying off the victims
Of the smoke
To which they did succumb.

Sift the ash,
The burnt life laying in waste,
There it goes
All but clothes
Worn while escaping in haste,
All is ash.

Cinders, embers, left over from fire;
Dreaming, scheming, now ruined desire.

Destruction takes many forms
Shades of chill and variety of warms
Words of emotional death,
Times that still the reality of breath;
Watch a home burn to the ground
Over fill on the it’s destruction in sound.
Watching it from my window
There until the night returns to shadows.

Dancing flames, do you know the names
Of those now alone left in the cold without a home?