Twin towers of steel, concrete, and glass, silhouetted against the
clear night sky, brightly gleaming.
When morning comes, they stand tall, defiant and proud above
the rest, with reflections for all to see and gasp.
Citizens gaze at their massive reach, high into the clear,
blue morning sky.
People enter to perform their work, their livelihood, their toll,
all oblivious to evils now on their way, unknown to them and us.
Powerful, strong, poised and tall, stretching high above the rest,
twin towers of shining glass and form, now planned targets of a terrorists’ plot.
From a foreign land, tortured reasoning and twisted thought,
forebodes and seals their fate, for their untimely doom.
Painted metal birds, gorged with fuel to sustain their flight, and
human cargo, held within, their destinations changed by fate and plot.
Passengers now committed against their wills, to strike the twins and all within.
Slamming quickly, killing, igniting, and burning, leaving their
silhouettes outlined against the glass with liquid death now for those within.
Thousands flee to escape the flames, God’s miracle in a strange way,
as others go the other way, into the flames of the devil’s brew.
Fireman, cops, those Port Authority men, with thoughts of death, but
care and concern, their job to save the rest…heroes, one and all.
Collapsing, crumbling, sudden, wretched and twisted death of man
and buildings in instants and disbelief before our eyes.
Thousands die without a fight in concrete, dust, steel, and glass
leaving heaps of rubble and human beings, all now scattered
and strewn for what had been.
Proud, tall, silhouetted against the night sky and morning sun,
Brightly gleaming in our minds, the towers of bodies and souls.
Oh how we hurt, oh how we moan, for those fallen friends, those
heroes, those towers bold.
J. A. Decker, Jr.