Tuesday, September 11, 2007
A 911 Poem
Towers of Life
They stood hushed and glimmering in the night,
Giants able to frame the moon,
Slumbering magnificently in their might.
Day breaks and the sun gently warms their skin,
Veins begin to pulse with life,
The sprit of a thousand of kin.
Evil tears towards them through the brilliant morning sky,
Propelled by the blackest of hate,
Guided by a lie.
Barely risen they stand with no defense,
Innocent and distracted they are not prepared,
The pain about to be inflicted intense.
Like a bolt of lighting that shatters the morn,
Evil crashes once then twice into their sides,
Their bodies are scorched and torn.
Horribly crippled they continue to stand,
Holding onto life until the last,
Orders are given, they take the command.
The battle is brief, the giants begin to yield,
Life drains from every artery,
Their fate is sealed.
Collapsing to zero,
First to one knee then to the next,
From their dust will emerge so many a hero.
The question is asked,
How can such evil exist.