Today one-hundred flames will turn to ash

Today one-hundred names will be erased

Must be too fine a spray to make a splash

One-hundred drops per day are barely traced

This many lives you'd think we'd go to war

The press would raise a stink demanding due

Each day doomed to repeat one-hundred more

A shame we can't defeat this deja-vu

'Tis ego that is blind and deaf and dumb

Misguided, we don't mind this place we dwell

No wake-the-dead alarms to unmask numb

Just sleek and shiny charms to cast their spell

A clever spin that tames a deadly crash

Today one-hundred flames will turn to ash