Tiny child building a sand castle weaving the magic of fantasy in the crystal grains caught up like a moat in the eye of a giant and battered into a fence where she was impaled one tiny life snuffed amidst 150,000 and many passed her tiny corpse that day knowing she was beyond help she hung as a testament to the horror of nature uprooting lives with titanic force sweeping thousands of souls into a mass exodus and what remains mere driftwood that would drift for days until lined up on streets they litter the walkways arms bent in rigor mortise postures that demonstrate their vain attempts to swim in a whirlpool vortex of death that would not yield escape in any form except statistics all nationalities washed into eternity no discrimination here just nations disassembled in split seconds at ten a.m. so many tiny children's last play day so many parents left childless lovers caught in mid stroke separated and divorced from love by death sunbathers drenched in the oils of land mass disrupted fishermen tossed on toy boats into swirling seas toothpick buildings picking the teeth of the rocks clean of bits of flesh and bone some washed away never to return mass graves will cradle the young mixed with the strangers that shared their last breaths empty chairs will haunt many homes and the seas will no longer be as relaxing for all who saw the horrid bite that they can take from the flesh of humanity dancing along it's shores Godspeed to all who perished there is a dry and pain free promised land awaiting for those who were washed in the blood of their brothers and sisters they will be cleansed and healed and rejoined on the shores of paradise where fate sets all who cross its path and meet it's quotas even on sunny beach days where a tiny child builds dreams in the sand as the waters recede outward and then stamp on her masterpiece with their twenty feet falling im a merciless cascade of sorrows.
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