Ashes on the ground
what was lost would never be found.
Thick, dark smoke
swam in and out of our guts,
the searing pain at the sight of it ingrained in our hearts.
The buildings were razed to the ground.

Early hours of yester years
christmas period, he recalled
at the stroke of mid-night exactly
the disturbing sounds came.
Voices and chatter was at its loudest,
sirens blared
he curiously stepped out of his apartment.
His sight was greeted with smoke,
his nose awoke fully the rest of his half-asleep senses.
Fire, he saw.
Walking people on fire
He froze,
stood still and stared
unable to run forward and help.

His ears vibrated at the sounds of the approaching foot-steps.
He could see people pouring buckets after another
on people and the buildings.
Soon, the police
and the fire men came.

The fires vexed.
The screams we heard from those inside the buildings ceased, those who worked late into the night.
Hose after hose
Ladder after ladder
till the second hour
when it flamed out.
It grew higher and higher,
darker and thicker
till the third hour
when the white smoke prevailed.

Yellow stripes made by the police contained the curious crowd.
Ambulances struggled to revive the fainting people.
Some where in the crowd the man stood.
He kept his head down
a tear trickled down his face.
He had seen fires kissing flesh
and properties transforming to ash.
He witnessed live death
and fires blazing bright.
He saw what he saw.
The National Business Center would be greatly missed.