Fateful times.


With that steely glint, in his eye at dawn

Sword in scabbard- always ready for play

Death paused to ponder this day’s end.

Another Battle, but what the prey?


Beneath gray clouds, of smoke and ash,

Twin Towers aflame, in angry wrath

Slowly at first, then with increasing speed.

Totter then Tumble, into mounds of death.


Shock and fear, then angers rise

Mounting sorrow, the World around.


Armies fight and soldiers die,

Faces blackened, soot and grime,

Oil fires burn, on the desert plain

The fallen lay, in foreign climes.


Beneath the night time, crescent glow

You snatch a breath, while feeling sad

One wonders just, what will come next.

In a crazy, spinning World - Gone mad.


Eric Valentine March 20/03 ©