Natures dice, thrown in a trice, In a grotesque game of craps,
Whose final score, is real shock and awe, And rewriting global
maps. Political reputation, seen by a nation, Hiding in its cosy
hole of choice, Who promises braille, whilst the real mail, is
delivered via the peoples voice. And the aftermath is all in its
path, Is gone in waste and grief, Why does it take disasters
wake, To unite us all in relief. No discrimination here, just
abject fear, No religion or class escapes unscathed, No riches
or show cheat the undertow, All submerged beneath the waves. In
modern times, our greatest crime, Is to have lost feelings and
lost touch, It takes catastrophe, to make you with me, To make
everyone into us. Faced with apocalypse our planes and ships,
Seem meaningful when not at war, But as our memory of disaster
slips, Will we revert to squabbling like before. Maybe we should
try, to all get by, And harmonise more from this date, Who knows
when next the globe is vexed, Who knows the twists of fate.
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