The headline reads,
'Devastating Photos.'
The view is bleak.
Horror in the news.
Flashes.
Hand on my helmet.
I walk into the miasma
and wait.
Crashing.
Asleep for a change.
I can only see the
pictures that were laid out.
Pixilated mass carnage.
Memories of past friendships.
Something amiss.
The Earth shifts.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem