Written about the Titanic. -11th April 2013.
The Empire style whispered a cultured heartening
That made me feel elegant and privileged.
I remember thinking how the French fabrication liberated me.
It was the style of the people.
The first scream lay the foundation of those to follow.
Maple back violins ceased singing
And the fashioning of our graceful banquet sharply perished.
Our fragility was measured.
The disarray of all those faces doubled the urgency
Of falling architecture.
I recall the clock on the Grand Staircase and how it shifted.
The vessel loudly spoke.
I can still hear the agony of men in my sleep.
Hope didn't have a chance, for fear gripped them so tightly.
The violins began chanting
As fate ordered for the sinking of lives
And reality was met with its silence.
Poetry by John Ashleigh
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Written on 2013-04-11 at 16:04
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