Aftermath (27/9/13)

This is a poem written in the aftermath of the 2013 Westgate terror attacks.  

Today, tears.
Silent screams, never uttered
echo in my mind
What if
My daughter’s hand was wrenched from mine?
Bullets felled me, my son paralysed
by fear, uncomprehending
the enormity of evil
abstraction now personified?

Silent screams, never uttered
It was not me
so now I sit, unable
to go or drive or lazily wander
Unable to dream
Of an evening of laughter and clinking glasses
and easy company
in a city that seems somehow
darker and shakier and distant.

Horror filled stories
whisper through pages and pictures
Grief and gratitude
intermingle with doubt and hope
The veil is torn
and the secret hidden menaces
crystallise somberly
Perception now attuned
to what was, and is
but not evermore shall be

Silent hope
There is evening and there is morning
– the next day
Fear fading
Hand grasping hand
Far from abandoned or alone
in this cosmic tangle
of pain and beauty
and death
and life.


Author: steeres

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