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.