The disaster chronicles, part 3: a picture-less poem

I was mid-click, you see.
My eye to the lens
An image of beauty before me. 
But then the screen went black and would awake no more.

My camera, my love
is broken.
When I need it most.  Oh!  When I need it most!

My book is due, my book is due.  
And healers of precious things across the sea.

When the world conspires against you......
And you stare, despondent, into your empty glass.