As silhouettes appear on pavement slab
My senses sharpen’d by held ‘state of fear’
To nail direction canst but take a stab
Projection from above or to the rear
Known skyline doth afford familiar form
Atop the terraced roofs of chimney pots
Then shadows move, pre-empting firestorm
Tis case of “All for one” or drawing lots
We number six, tho three scan either side
Of cobbled streets where children skip with rope
Their screams now fill the air as they collide
Whilst fleeing scene midst deadly sights of scope
Escape for us denied by closing doors
For sure it never rains, but always pours