It was a procession of ghosts in an instant
all clothing buerned off hands,faces,and
The purple blisters on their skin were
burst and peeled offhanging down like
With hands lifted half up,they were ghosts
Dragging their ragged skin behind them
fell down moaning in heaps and died
At center of explosion,the temperature
six thousand degrees.
A human shadow remaind on a stone step
Could a body vaporize?
Did it blow away?
There is no one to tell what it was
at that moment at the center.
Burned charred faces,no one could tell
Voices weakened,they told their names
even then were unrecognized.
An infant with innocent face and delicate
skin lay asleep
Was it saved in it's mother's tender
Oh,that even this one babe will awake
rise up again