Nine-Eleven
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The towers burned ...
Billows roiling and twisting into azure
An oily, angry monster to thrash the morn
Consuming two flowers of steel
Raping a world's innocence ...
The petals fell ...
Colors fluttering in the late-summer air
Precious petals, rich with limbs and lives and loves
That plunged the sunny splendor, screaming
And turned the earth crimson ...
The heavens wept ...
Ashen, poisoned tears of mad malice
Careless caliphates, crying sin from a foreign sky
Shrouding a free world, brought to its knees
Where it found its greatest ...
Strength.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Enter The 'Any Poem You Want To Write 180 Words Or Less" Poetry Contest, Caren Krutsinger, Judge & Sponsor.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2019
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