Father and daughter


Not just people, their homes
but dreams, futures snuffed out
unlike the flames
that wrapped its unmerciful wings
around the tower without pity or care
resurrected by learned men’s folly!
Once again the poor suffering above their station,
swept aside like spent poker chips
as the midnight gambler
shuffles into the shadows
to pay his debt to the reaper
who tonight had his fill,
yet the morning comes
bringing the dew of hope
for out of these embers
will rise men and women of faith
not just in God, but in justice
as the ashes of those that were loved
are blown into the eternal palace of peace…

M C Bolton

Reproduced with thanks from Urban Dandy blog.