9/11 Poem

Our Ego was high, our Armor was low.  The Sidewalk was broken, the Gutter so low.  The Fetid air was heavy; the sky was Ugly with Static.  My Heart was filled with Envy, it was very problematic.

Murder was in the Hands of Vicarious Wrath.  This Demon would never Falter to gnash, gnash our Legion with his teeth.  Never was there any Sympathy.  Instead, he filled our Hearts with Misery.

Again and again, we were hit with Agony, we tried to Salvage what we could, but our reward was Terminal.

Ferment was Poison.  Disease was Catastrophic.  Shrill torment tore us down.  We didn’t stand a Chance.

Lament poured from our Marrow as we were filled with Regret from the Isolation of our loved ones.

I once knew an innocent Child.  She was bright and Frivolous all the Time.  She no longer lives.  Her Blood was spilt and she was torn limb from limb.  She was left Staggering, trying to find an Antidote for the Guilt she felt.

How long would we Languish before our Blood ran Thin?  How long would we last until Death reigned in?

Where was our Mercy from heaven?  How many times had we died on 9/11?