A Friday Poem (a day late)

I think this might be about Pompeii, but I'm not sure. It was written while trying to go to sleep, and then I had a waking dream about a terror attack, so who knows?

Chaos.
Echoes in the darkness.
Emanating from nothing.
Screams, gut-wrenching and brain-freezing.
Dust and heat, then silence.
A lovely voice.
Young; crying; fearful; lost.
Thousands trapped, tortured.
Wallowing in the swallowing mud.
A new landscape.
An end to life.
History.

RC 18-11-23