Fury of Pages

Ashes fall downward as I’m walking away,

A dead world’s in my head as its dust paints the street.

Smoke burns through the lungs of faces sober and grey,

And glazed over stares make known grave defeat.

Only hours before when these ashes had meaning-

Before our worth was employed as debris,

We stood there together and breathed in the feeling.

Tragedy made entrance, with pain guarantied.

As the throats of priceless words were slit with a spark  

Delirious flames left our souls in the dark.