based on my true events of september eleven |
It's Sunday night the weekend is done as my body winds down from a day in the sun my spirits are high tonight the sleep of the bear awaits me a full week of nothing but lumber a sacred retreat from a long hard summer I'm up early on Tuesday morning I flip the switch on my radio as usual for Elvis and the Z morning crew to provide an early elemental stew but with the voice of reason a little off today a burst of confusion seems highly at play could be a mind-bender for those that are foolish I think to myself so I tune in my ear to see what they say a gaping hole in tower one is the take a plane hit a building a shaken Elvis states my brain now grounded and out of focus when dogs sing evil is left behind I walk over and turn on my television I guess the morning crew was not on a mission it's very hard to believe what is on screen the Pix news crew feeling for answers my spirits now gone I drop to my seat my senses alert to something not seen in the distance a fire now beacons a plane has landed on DC as weapons how can this be a second plane turns towards tower two my emotions are slow to ingest what I see when dogs sing evil is left behind A statement is made for the world to see yes terror can come to those who live free today America is wounded the blood of the innocent swirls high to the heavens as the towers burn with abundant hatred on the streets there's a tide of emotion as a confetti of humanity gathers with anger and tears and in another place you can surely feel they're squirming with fear because they understand when dogs sing evil is left behind We clean and bandage our wounds a prayer a song a promise helps to ease a memory that can swallow us all the terror that spewed lost on the call it made us much stronger with the flag that binds us brighter and tall this week I sat comatized I treaded a range of emotion unlike any in my life as my brain comes slowly back in focus and my spirits make a fragile return I search my movie collection for something to soothe my hands grab hold of one for the ages The Greatest Story Ever Told In week of a story I never want to see again I sit and I watch and my body is taken to another place I return refreshed just to be sure I never forget because when dogs sing evil is left behind |