Where the Ground Never Stopped Shaking

A Tribute to Thailand’s Earthquake 2025

The earth stirred in the quiet night,

A whisper first, then searing fright.

A crack beneath the sleeping ground,

A silence lost, a deafening sound.

The rooftops swayed like drunken ghosts,

Brick and stone unmoored from posts.

Windows shattered, walls gave way,

And turned to dust what once stood safe.

The Earth Trembles in Thailand

Chiang Rai’s lanterns lit the sky,

But soon their glow would twist and die.

A tremor deep, a violent quake,

Turned all to ruins in its wake.

Monks fled temples, prayers were lost,

The ancient walls paid their cost.

The golden spires, once standing tall,

Now buried deep beneath it all.

The night was filled with muffled screams,

The air was thick with dust and dreams.

And in the dark, beneath the stone,

A child lay trapped, cold and alone.

The First Collapse

It came not once but once again,

As if the earth sought to amend,

To split apart what man had made,

To shake foundations, bend and break.

A temple bell let out its cry,

Before it fell and kissed the sky.

The gilded roofs, the painted spires,

Swallowed whole by trembling fires.

The mountains moaned, the rivers bled,

The ocean roared, the forests fled.

And in the ruins, echoes stayed,

Of all the lives the quake betrayed.

The Screams Beneath the Stone

A voice called out from underneath,

A child gasping, short of breath.

A hand stretched thin through shattered beams,

A silent prayer, a muted scream.

Where was the sky? Where was the light?

Where was the dawn that broke the night?

The dust had choked the air so thick,

That time itself began to slip.

She lay beneath the crushing weight,

Her fingers grasped at dust and fate.

Each second stretched to endless years,

Each heartbeat fought against her fears.

The world above had turned to sound,

Of shifting stone, of falling ground.

The voices rushed, the feet drew near,

And yet no touch, and yet no clear—

Until a spark, a glimpse, a space,

A voice that called out to her face.

The hand she reached for met her own,

And pulled her out of dust and stone.

The City of Fallen Towers

The market stalls were set ablaze,

The flags that waved had lost their grace.

The tower that once marked the square,

Had vanished now into the air.

The echoes rang of things once known,

Of laughter lost, of names now stones.

A single street stood still intact,

But bore no voices, no one passed.

And yet the ground it never stilled,

It rumbled low with iron will.

As if the heart of earth itself,

Refused to rest, refused to help.

The Aftershocks

They came with little, cruel delay,

They took what little still remained.

A home rebuilt was crushed once more,

A rescued soul thrown to the floor.

The hands that built were hands that broke,

The prayers rose but choked in smoke.

And yet the people rose again,

Despite the fear, despite the end.

With trembling hands, with weary feet,

They found each other in defeat.

For though the land refused to cease,

The hearts of men still sought their peace.

Thailand Rebuilds

And so they stood on trembling sand,

On fractured stone, on broken land.

Awaiting quiet, awaiting rest,

Awaiting time to clear the mess.

But time was cruel, time would not stay,

The earth still shook the light away.

The ground still roared, the walls still fell,

The sirens rang their hollow bells.

Yet in the ruins, hope survived,

A nation rose, though torn and tried.

Chiang Rai’s streets, now bathed in dust,

Would shine again, rebuild they must.

The Child Who Stood Again

And yet through dust, and ash, and flame,

A voice arose, a single name.

A child who once had wept alone,

Now found herself a safer home.

And though the ground still shook the skies,

She stood, she breathed, she survived.