By Peter Devonald
We are all just fragments of a bomb the instant it explodes,
our history caught in a scream, echoing through eternity,
our inertia to influence our lives, passive watchers to our ending,
every piece of shrapnel just moments where we did nothing,
every violent scream testimony to our silent acquiescence,
every exploding building sad witnesses to our utter failure,
our lives seen in sharpest focus, every moment, every futile
moment, witnessed from every angle and every single perspective,
every denial and sigh, every repressed unanswered question, everything
caught in a click of a camera, scrutinising shattered smashed glass,
as our lives are demolished to smithereens for someone else’s dream.
All those passions, epiphanies and love songs, all those home truths,
realisations and attainments, caught in this terrible diamond mark,
crystalline and fragmented, all of life captured in transformation.