Some Only Lived Four Hours

Death's vast, heavy cloak,

muffled in pale, stark landscapes

where only dolls hear.

The true wrenching toll

silenced by corrupt digits

that make stray ghosts choke.

Such tragedy stains

the ether, casting shadows

into forever.

In honour of those who died and are still dying from the effects of Chernobyl, of which the statistics are as mutated as the wildlife and nature left behind.

Poetry©Words Among Trees

Images - from Google