strange world, strange people

The house on fire, see them flames roar higher.
Men running, women crying, children silenced.
They look so tiny, with tiny buckets of few drops.
Servants servile, strong ones mobile, the house defiled.
The window on top left gushing out furious flames.
In the chaos, a parrot with clipped wings aflame.

The mistress crying out for her pet, master adamant.
“Take your mistress away!” he bellows at a servant.
Skirts, coats, hems, hair, all singed, stinking destruction
Her heart longs for the pet, not the colored man charred
In a deeper hue, beyond recognition, beyond comprehension.
Strange world, I say, strange people. They guilt and desire marred.

In all hue and cries, the child forgotten, eyes wide open
Lips forming a permanent O. Hair sweat-smoothened.
Tracks of shed tears still visible, unshed tears blocked
The smell of burning toys in a psyche permanently shocked.
The arrhythmic rise and fall of chest holding so much pain,
His only companions lost in the nursery, left humans disdain.

No love lost over the survivors. Sense of loss held high.
Mourning not for lives that went alight into the dark night.
Toys, pets and property, losing these made them so appalled!
Strange world, I say, strange people. They guilt and desire marred.