Empire of Shadows
When the great hammer blow descended
it came suddenly, right out of the blue,
unexpected, out of a clear blue sky.
On the ground, moments before the blast,
it was a calm, sunny, Monday morning.
Those closest to the blast died instantly,
their bodies turned to crisp black charcoal.
Nearby birds burst into flames in mid-air,
and combustible materials like
paper, or skin, ignited instantly _
as far away as 6,000 feet from
the epicentre, or ground zero.
The white light acted as a huge flashbulb
burning the dark patterns of clothing on
skin and shadows of bodies onto walls.
Survivors outdoors close to the blast
described a literally blinding light,
combined with an enormous wave of heat.
The city was hidden by that awful
cloud … boiling up, mushrooming, terrible.
Sixty years after that cataclysm
someone in power wrote the following:
The war on terror involves enemies
hidden among us who hate our values,
who will use any weapons against us …
in the age of post-modern irony.
Hugh McFadden
Amazing poem! Thank you for sharing:)
I thought your poem to be promising by its title and I wasn’t mistaken. Great poem, a bit formidable, but true. I enjoyed it very much. Thank you. 👌