The cities stood still,
but its foundation was dust.
People walked
as if God no longer saw them,
as if laws applied only to others.

Angels came
in the form of strangers,
but no heart opened,
no door without hidden intent.

The voice of the prophet
sounded like wind between stones,
scattered before it could be understood.
They laughed at warning,
mocked the sacred.

Then the light tore open the night,
no time left for repentance.
Sulfur fell like judgement,
fire licked the walls
where prayers should have echoed.

And Lot did not look back-
but she did,
turned to salt,
as memory hardens
when grace comes too late.