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Bombing of the Erawan Shrine
The smell of patchouli incense fills the air.
Smoke twists up to greet the Thai people praying after work.
As I bow before the golden shrine of Lord Brahma, Trinity of the Hindu Gods,
out of the corner of my eye, I see a man wearing a bright yellow shirt
looking around nervously.
I pray, listening to the comforting sound of the ringing chimes
focusing on my breathing, blessing my family.
Thud a shattering glass sound reverberates in my ears.
My body turns numb. I move automatically,
Sprinting for my life away from the Erawan Shrine.
Behind me I hear the sound of explosions blasting.
Sharp crystals shatter in the air, raining down on my numb body.
My head is searing with pain, my lungs are crying for air,
Ear-piercing screams ring in the night.
Rushing crowds disperse, bodies strewn by force.
Behind me lies an immense mountain of mangled bikes, burning cars and debris
strewn with incense and yellow flowers
brought by worshippers for Lord Brahma, the God of kindness, mercy and sympathy.
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This poem is about the bombing of the Erawan Shrine in Bangkok.