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The bellows of smoke that rose in the air; still had poignant
traces of their breath,
The splinters of glass shattered all around; still had profound
stains of their blood,
The gargantuan slabs of concrete lying in disarray; still had
brutally pulverized fragments of their valiant bones,
The incoherently shaped mirrors poking out from the rubble;
still had their terrorized reflections,
The sordid bits of paper blended with stone; still had
embodiments of their last minute declarations,
The disastrously squelched telephone pieces; still had shrill
recordings of their horrified and ghastly screams,
The unconsumed cakes of food adhering to the severely
distorted lifts; still had vivacious traces of their saliva,
The strands of metallic junk diffusing from the broken car seats;
still had the blurred photo of their beloved,
The ripped apart fragments of curtain cloth wound limply around
the gleaming iron nails; still contained curled masses of their
blood soaked hair,
The disdainfully beaten pieces of plaster engulfed in clouds of
dust; were still impregnated with scores of their shimmering
teeth,
The mud sprinkled for kilometers on the stretch; was still moist
with their river of agonized tears; which must have profusely
oozed out from their cheeks,
The mammoth sized pillars which once held the building one
piece from beneath; were still flooded with bonquet's of bruised
flowers which they had been just
rewarded for their achievements,
The eagle which incessantly encircled the appalling sight; still
had their expensive chains of silver in its beak,