The Mountain

Wrath of the mountain.
Mass of falling rocks.
Screaming and shouting.
Then come aftershocks.

No malice or intention.
Just nature unfolding.
Fear and apprehension.
Terror is sharp and holding.

Bare hands digging.
Cries from below.
Not time for quitting.
Hope starts to grow.

First found is a loss.
Pleas continue through dust.
Everyone gives a toss.
Efforts will not go bust.

Hand reaches from debris.
Screams of relief and joy.
In total there are three.
Two girls and a boy.

First of many more.
Eleven hours, twenty.
Sadly there is still gore.
It leaves you feeling empty.

Just remember…

Wrath of the mountain.
Mass of falling rocks.
Screaming and shouting.
Then come aftershocks.

Power of nature.
Can’t comprehend.
You cannot wager.
There is no final end.

Its happened before.
It’ll come round again.
Listen for the roar.
Prepare for anything.