we heard the rumbling from afar,
smudge of darkness, smell of war,
and then the torrents burst from cloud
bullet-hail on the crowd

'twas too late to seek a shelter
from bombs that rained like helter-skelter
too late for kids who huddled cowed
donned too early their sallow shrouds

then the tyrant spoke out aloud
spoke destruction with fist avowed
no-one saw beneath brow proud
the madman saw a mushroom-cloud

no-one heard, no-one thought,
though air tingled with danger fraught
"he's not serious," "it'll come to naught",
now no-one's left to tell you aught.