She was the unlit base of a burning fire,
an account of the impending disaster,
She was the loudest cry in silence,
She was part peace, part violence

Her hand run down, from her epic falls about the town,
Her eyes drown, in the sorrow of an inbound hound,
a hound of fear, a hound of cry, a hound of desperation and endless lies

She kept on waiting, till the last day came,
swept her off into the drain,
she then found a beam of light,
she finally stood up for
a last fight.

Her sadness remains this day on,
her hopes of happiness, long gone,
she was then, she is now,
the testament of time,
she is the grand master,
a true burning disaster.