This is a mix of Poetry and Prose. What this story is describing is for you to decide.
They were there,
But then were gone,
As though swept away - like dust on a porch.
Truly, I say, truly, can one not prevent such atrocities?
Not once, but twice.
Twice hath death blessed this land
With but a subtle kiss.
A kiss of such force
That none might challenge it.
Death is known by enveloping blackness
And, in mixture with the light of the world
Turns pale gray.
But then, who's to see it?
A small land
Yet large loss.
An event to scar the mind.
An event to imbue in the mind.
An event to destroy the mind.
Twice, death kissed, and twice, death reaped.
Twice, did death become pale gray
With the light of the world.
Twice, did everyone stand and watch.
None spoke, but all thought
"Who's to stop this?"