When all the dust has settled
And the wreckage is confirmed
I’ll paint you a picture
The one for which you’ve yearned
The streets are full of rubble
The town can barely stand
Struggles from the pile ups
Cuts on people’s hands
I’ll tell you ‘bout the day time
Desolate and grim
The shadows are a highlight
Respite from sullen dim
I’ll tell you about the night time
Hollow, rough and raw
The icy winds compound them
And chills them to their core
A naked child confronts me now
With anger in his eyes
He leads me to the building
Where his parents died
The concrete pillars crumbled
The staircase burnt to ash
The boy lays his belongings
Scattered on the grass
His eyes ask me a question
His mouth remains tight shut
The villagers surround us
From their makeshift huts
To them am I the reason?
The symbol, or the cause?
The one who runs their wells dry?
The one who closes doors?
If so can I deny it?
Look at what I wear
Look at how I view them
Measure my despair
They don’t want my money
My lifestyle, they don’t care
They simply want their freedom
And returned to them, what’s theirs