Siren screams and fiendish cackles, carried cinders,
by the gentle breeze, hot asell fire, dry as tinder.
The vile tounge of flams, licks the city jaws,
scorching leaded windows and maze of bricks.
London burnt in 1666
Boiling sewer rats and roasting house cats,
silencing childrens merry antics,
forcing apart neighbourhood cliques.
Consumed in impenetrable smoke,
their screams broke and women and children choked,
their tounges swollen in their throats- frenzied.
London Burnt in 1666
Burnt like rotten sticks, melting candle wicks,
painted orange, black and red, the city bled.
The fat landlords fled from their inn beds,
with wickar baskets and caskets of wine.
On woeful occurrence, oh child of mine,
maimed and foresaken in blackened ash,
The veil of death, rising into the sky.