Night time hawks

the drone like an unbearable stomach knot

clenched between the witness eye of the moon and hate

a twisted moonlight sonata rendition travelling along the beams

staring directly down at a smoke screen

as they begin rejecting bombs from their wretched wombs

cutting the air, bringing down the blade

exploding the placid breathing below

in a mosaic of stain glass shards

as the saints break with the tranquil breeze

faces disfigured in patterns of distress

incendiary blows of un-deciphered deception

in a seething wrecking ball of time

hypnotized by the raging flames

engulfing the screams to immense the seams

the marker of undiagnosed clarity

as the world rocks by in manic chaos

all angles rushing in, consuming the threat

stamping it out with the bleeding betrayal

as bodies swiftly turn to ash as the fires slowly begin to extinguish

upright and haunting between the worlds

the sirens are scaring the stillness where they linger

death, the haunted touch

the hand that rocked the land with his unsympathetic chorus of disciples

in a swarm of penetrating crosses, iron boiled pupils

intense the rush, misplaced the need

in the rumble, the ruins of everything that stood in intimacy

the eyes still wavering in a mirage of events

of hundreds that became the fallen, inside nowhere, eternally lost

the flashbacks they pierce the peace

of this city shadowed in history

they could take peoples jobs, familiarity, their alter

families of loved ones laid out into the mourning days

but time healed, mended in remembrance defined

and buildings grew back stronger in forgiveness

they could never break the soul, the hope

the unity of prayer