The
cry in the heat
The
golden fire never retreat
It
sees the burning of prey
It
will swallow them in grilled chops
The
smell of smoke
Bellowing
out through the windows
The
crying and stomping of feet
The
angel of death never says a word
He
takes them all
Into
his bag to store
In
his world to process
Once
the dead are gone
The
men in blue
Walk
in to investigate
Poking
on the ashes
Trying
to find clues
The
family members will cry
In
day in years in memories
Of
the loved ones perished in the fire
The
golden shower of burning ashes
The
solemn prayers will be held
Praying
for the lost souls who perished
For
a while it will stay on the loss
Soon
reality bites; back to usual routines
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