"Devastation" - Bahamas AI Art
©A. Derek Catalano
After the Storm
The sky turned bronze, a fevered, sickly hue,
Before the great wind claimed the world it knew.
It came not whispering, but with a tearing roar,
A thousand fists against the fragile shore.
The ocean rose, a frantic, hungry thing,
And broke the vows that gentle waters sing.
Homes built on hope became a splintered wreck,
As nature pressed its boot upon the neck
Of this small jewel, where laughter used to dwell,
Now echoing the hurricane's fierce knell.
We locked the doors and prayed the walls would hold,
But morning dawned upon a tale untold.
The day arrived, but brought no golden light,
Just silent, sodden ruins in the white
And heavy air. The sea had claimed its due,
A field of wreckage stretching into view.
We saw the roofless skeletons of steel,
The wounds that time alone can never heal.
For in the debris, where the water lay,
Were gentle souls the tempest stole away.
The count of loss was whispered, low and deep,
A shared, profound, and solitary weep.
The act of God had left its cruelest mark,
And plunged the island into endless dark.
But sorrow cannot build a broken wall;
The memory of ruin can’t be all.
From scattered lanes, where grief began to cease,
A few emerged, the fragile dawn of peace.
No single voice commanded, yet we saw
The ancient wisdom rise above the law
Of self-preservation, fear, and pain—
The simple knowledge that we must remain.
A neighbor reached for timber, wet and vast;
A stranger helped secure a lifeline fast.
We must all come together, mind and might,
And turn our backs against the endless night.
.jpg "Bahamas Cruise")
.jpg "Tropic Vacation")
