Catastrophe
It comes unbidden, like a thief at night,
Shattering peace, extinguishing light.
The air grows heavy, the silence loud,
A sudden fracture within the crowd.
Mountains crumble, rivers surge,
The pulse of chaos, a relentless urge.
Structures fall where dreams once soared,
A cruel reminder of nature's sword.
The sky turns dark, the winds betray,
Sweeping all certainty far away.
What once was whole is torn apart,
A world reshaped, a grieving heart.
The earth may groan, the oceans rise,
Tears reflecting in trembling skies.
A tapestry woven with threads of fear,
Each thread a loss, each stitch a tear.
Yet through the ashes, life may grow,
Roots find depth where none would show.
From ruin's hand, renewal springs,
A phoenix born on broken wings.
The storms may howl, the flames consume,
Turning hope into smoke and gloom.
But even in this, a truth remains:
From chaos comes what order sustains.
Each catastrophe bears its scar,
A mark of change, of who we are.
In loss, we find what we must mend,
In endings, glimpses of a new transcend.
The world is fragile, yet it stands,
Shaped by fate’s unyielding hands.
Through pain, we learn; through grief, we see,
The raw, unyielding reality.
So, let us rise, though bruised and torn,
From every dusk comes a brighter morn.
Catastrophe may bend our knees,
But from the wreckage, we are free.
For every fall holds seeds of grace,
A chance to rebuild, to find our place.
In tragedy's wake, we grow anew,
Stronger, braver, and ever true.
Shattering peace, extinguishing light.
The air grows heavy, the silence loud,
A sudden fracture within the crowd.
Mountains crumble, rivers surge,
The pulse of chaos, a relentless urge.
Structures fall where dreams once soared,
A cruel reminder of nature's sword.
The sky turns dark, the winds betray,
Sweeping all certainty far away.
What once was whole is torn apart,
A world reshaped, a grieving heart.
The earth may groan, the oceans rise,
Tears reflecting in trembling skies.
A tapestry woven with threads of fear,
Each thread a loss, each stitch a tear.
Yet through the ashes, life may grow,
Roots find depth where none would show.
From ruin's hand, renewal springs,
A phoenix born on broken wings.
The storms may howl, the flames consume,
Turning hope into smoke and gloom.
But even in this, a truth remains:
From chaos comes what order sustains.
Each catastrophe bears its scar,
A mark of change, of who we are.
In loss, we find what we must mend,
In endings, glimpses of a new transcend.
The world is fragile, yet it stands,
Shaped by fate’s unyielding hands.
Through pain, we learn; through grief, we see,
The raw, unyielding reality.
So, let us rise, though bruised and torn,
From every dusk comes a brighter morn.
Catastrophe may bend our knees,
But from the wreckage, we are free.
For every fall holds seeds of grace,
A chance to rebuild, to find our place.
In tragedy's wake, we grow anew,
Stronger, braver, and ever true.
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