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| Smoke and Fire billowing and flashing; Ash raining and drifting; A city once fair with life and laughter; Now silent, the morning after. Who could know that horrible hour; That in the millennium's flower; The culture and knowledge buried there; Would rise again, its fruit to bear. To impress a folk far away in view and way; For study to hold an academic sway; That moment of terror and death some say; To answer questions, and see the day. Will those who come to sit and sift the stories there; Be gentle, and kind as the memories care; And remember for each bit of data seen; A life, a soul, a light extinguished has been. |
