The Day the Spires Fell
Embers fall like snowflakes
Scarlet flames lap at the stones
that were left behind.
A choir of mourners
raise their voices from the ground
with hopes that the notes
of "Ave Maria" reach heaven.
856 years of history
float to the earth in the
form of ash.
The heart of Paris
is breaking in two
with the inferno
that blazes on.
Across the globe
tears stream down faces
as we grieve the loss
of antiquity.
The relics of the
past lost to
the auburn sparks
that fill the air.
Our Lady of Paris
reduced to ruins.
©2019 by Ashley Nicole Cameron
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
