Tragedy at the Midnight Hour

A cryptic message on my phone
(announced to me by ominous tone),
I looked upon the screen to see
a message from that blue birdie:

"Upon the chime of midnight hour
A gala affair will quick turn dour:
chaos will reign and discord ensue
and sadness will come after you."

My heart beat fast within my chest;
to what did I owe this manifest?
What kind of curious note was this
would dare to take me from my bliss?

Anguish held my spirit fast
of vague torment, so broad and vast,
yet still another chime did toll
upon midnight hour, as foretold:

"Death reported at a grad affair:
shooter at large, be warned, beware!
Police arrive upon the scene;
at least twelve dead, some are teens."

Shrieks of fear from me did come;
my love, my child, my boy, my son
was at said fete to celebrate
this rite of passage, with his classmates...

Horror of horrors, be not true!
Be not my child; this day I'll rue!
But my wish my hope was not to be:
my boy was lost to tragedy—

A cryptic message on my phone
(announced to me by ominous tone)
forever marked my day of loss,
and now I have to bear this cross.