The Promise of Hiroshima
It was all so beautiful.
Mathematics could dissect
reality itself,
Complex, and finely balanced,
A logan rock that moves with
just a touch,
and through these mysteries
we came to understand
the energy constrained within a
grain of sand.
Infinitesimal becomes
unbounded power.
One plane, one flash
One whole town gone to dust.
Nothing except a few skeletal
lines
Some shadow where a man had
been.
Silence, apart from screams.
For some, that was success.
And this is how it stays. We
live
under the sword of Damocles
death dangling by a hair,
our fallibility denied.
We live beneath the constant
threat,
our wilful ignorance of hell.
As if the sheer perfection of
the science
could purge the politicians'
faults.
As if the discipline
that led them to unlock the door
could somehow spread itself
into the corrupted soul and mind
of those whose stock in trade
is lies.
(c)
Richard Lawson
24/7/2015
No comments:
Post a Comment