The hammer comes down upon the nail.
It brings with it great turmoil like never before.
The nail now bends, unable to take it in any longer.
It breaks apart in two, the force on it much too strong to ignore.
The fire engulfs him, as he remains seated, unaware.
His blackened sooty body found later, in the ruins.
There were millions to cry for him, but none to shed tears.
He was only unlucky, because none recognized his tarnished face.
The water surrounds me, I stand meek and sullen.
I don't know where to run, please save me, someone.
None will come, because none can; it is too late.
Death is inevitable, sooner or later, it arrives, grim and forlorn.
But let this not be the end to my life.
Let this not show my misfortunes that I bear.
Let it be known that I could have done more; so much more.
And I am only gone today because tragedy struck me too soon.
May the phoenix be born from the ashes, golden and scarlet.
I hope my vision for the life we cannot live be known.
That few, if not all, live it until they be gone and dead.
PS. This poem is dedicated to all the people of Japan during these troubled times and all others who have ever had to suffer similar tragedies.