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,
The thoroughly dismantled upholstery buried several feet under the debris; still contained compassionate traces of their warmth,
The computer screens split apart into infinite halves; still displayed nostalgic images of their eyes,
The majestic wall paintings battered and bashed from all sides; still had animated marks of their caress,
The revolving chairs now an inconspicuous shadow of themselves; still had a fine conglomerate of chocolate powder; which they must be merrily munching a few
seconds before,
The colossal chimneys which were now reduced to matchsticks; still had their countless dreams rampantly lingering around,
And who says they were dead? , for if not anybody; but it is my firm belief that they were living; as no matter how unprecedented was the tragedy; no matter how horrific their destiny had been; their hearts were palpitating louder than outside world several feet below the rubble; with each beat louder than the other and proclaiming that THEY WERE STILL BREATHING AND ALIVE.
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