|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.