Sunday, 16 September 2012

300 samples of ash.

A shred of red cloth, a single bangle around a wrist
A single wrist lies clenched in a fist.
That fist never knew that it would make the list
Of those who burnt down in a factory fire.
That wrist never knew that the last it would see would be the orange of flame, enveloping every corner surrounding it.
That wrist never knew it would be victim to a box of matches.
That wrist never knew, it would be one of the 300 different kinds of ashes.

Today, we mourn.
We mourn  300 lives lost.
We mourn 300 dreams burnt to dust.
We mourn 300 voices that screamed for help and suffocated in a cage, safely bolted with locks.
More so,
We mourn our irresponsibility.
We mourn our insensitivity.
We mourn our corrupt minds and hearts and system.

One said it was a fuse blown
Another said it was plotted by an unknown
One said it was revenge to 9\11
One even said 'oh, don't worry, they're probably in heaven.'
My question is, was crossing hellfire the only path yo heaven?
And everyone knows the answer to that.
The careless government, the lazy fire fire fighters, the cruel factory managers, the ignorant crowd before me, and ofcourse, myself.

If my voice shakes today, its not because I'm nervous.
Its because I know I could've been one of them.
And I will be, one day,
We stop pretending we are helpless.
We have the mess of 300 different ashes to clear today
We have 300 tragic stories to hear today
We have the burden of 300 families to bear today
We have 300 sorrows to share today.
All we can do is pray today,
Donate what we can,
And I dream in vain, that their grief could wash way with rain
And I hope, today, that we may never witness hell on earth again. 

No comments:

Post a Comment