By wordley
Date: 2020 May 06
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On the morning...9:11

                                     On The Morning…9:11

On the morning, that morning, when the sky was azure and clouds so few
Her twins stood proud, silver faces shining,
Awaiting their friends of many nations, to fill them with noise or just to view
Away to the east, hearts were declining;
Four silver horsemen, apocalypse to bring,soared to sky on fire-driven wings
Two go this way, two go that, these are the ones we see
Two silver angels, swooping and soaring, carrying life, that most precious of things
Evil guides these birds from the land of the free;
"When death smiles at you, all you can do is smile back", is that what they did that day?
Standing, staring, watching death approach,
An Angel of death hurtling towards them, no where to run or hide, no further part to play
Just oblivion as one proud twin the angel did broach;
In one fiery moment his flank was shattered, he swayed, but stood firm and strong
Little knowing the melting power begun
From the wounds white confetti blew on the breeze, as other 'confetti' began a fall so long
Someone's mother, brother, husband, son;
All around his friends rushed to help with never a thought, his twin looked on in sadness,
Not seeing the stealthy attack in store
Flinching now at the glancing blow delivered, around them cried "what is this madness?"
The mortal blow condemned many more;
Standing tall together, both gravely wounded, with many a friend still trapped inside
Within the steel bones glowed so red
After minutes of stout determination and hope, as their strength drained from them,
There came that sound we learned to dread;
His pristine form,so badly smitten, quickly became a fithy, writhing dance
His skeletal form like some ribcage strewn
A terrible entanglement of limbs, human and structural, whirled around us in a trance
Crashing down to be an obelisk so terribly hewn;
He stood alone in horrified fascination, watched as his brother met his fate
Feeling the heat of the fire inside
Perhaps they could save him from devastation, save him at this moment so late
But then began that long, downward ride;
Again the air was filled with shrieks, as his once proud form so slowly disentangled
A howling cacophony of suffering souls
Layer into layer, his bones smashed outwards, his and other forms so pitifully mangled
A pyre on which freedom became the coals;
To the world they were our brothers, our kin, what right had they to take them?
With a vengeful, cowardly act of piracy
When religion takes away humanity's feelings of guilt and shame
Then lets us be accused of heresy;
In time their resting place will be cleared, the mortal forms sorted from the dross
Bones of steel and calcium laid to rest
But we should never lose, through thoughtlessness, this utter sense of loss
And see that this site is suitably dressed;
I no longer feel as safe as I did; all around I see the flashing knives of hate
Is Islam such a terrible religion?
Or are we ALL the infidel whom God, in his wisdom, has left to our fate
To fight ourselves into oblivion: