Remembering the Towers and the Ashes

They stood tall beneath sunlit skies,  

symbols of labor, dreams reaching high.  

Morning broke with the hum of life,  

streets buzzing, hearts pulsing with routine.  

Then discord, fire splitting heaven’s peace,  

steel crumbling like fragile, fleeting leaves.  

Smoke climbed fast, an unholy pillar rising,  

a darkened shroud over resolute faces.  

I remember the cries, the arms reaching,  

the sirens wailing, chaos swallowing order whole.  

And yet, from the ash, hands locked tight—  

strangers made kin by shared pain’s weight.  

The towers fell, but not the human heart,  

not the courage that surged like rivers untamed.  

Let us hold still, steel hearts of memory,  

honor their dust, and rebuild anew again.