Maellys FRANCE

 

For the victims of 9-11-2001

 

That day had started like all the others
Men and women working to earn a living
Who had no idea that their fate was to be smothered in smoke
 
But all of a sudden, the nightmare begins
A tremendous noise, yet so quick that one scarcely had time to hear it
And they find themselves surrounded, smothered by the heat of the flames

That great power with a big heart
Was caught by surprise straight to the heart
By this man who has no heart

The screams, the cries of innocents seized by panic, trying to flee
Came from the upper floors
But the elevators were too small, the floors too many

Some left a voice message to their families
Others prayed, waiting for death
Having lost all hope of getting out alive

More than 3000 victims perished
Many children lost a parent
And all of this because of one man

How can one be so full of hate
So as to have neither pity nor any regret
For this unforgivable act?

Time passes but justice isn't done
This demon remains unpunished and unable to be found
Will those innocents remain unavenged?

However, a year has already passed
But their memory is fixed
In our shattered hearts

She

She gathers up the disorder in our hearts
Replaces the silence into which we plunged,
Helps us to scale the walls of this misfortune
And takes us on a voyage through her woven words
 
Thanks to her we attain the realm of the soul
When discovered, we offer our deep secrets
Thus lightening the weight which presses on our flame
We free our flesh from this prison, without litigation

Without her, our hearts would be crushed, entangled
No longer able to contain this troubled world.
Onto white paper we spit the words of life
Thus delivering all of our mysteries freely without greed

Her rhymes, her letters and her syllables all work toward
The goal of expressing life in its two sides:
The roads of love cradled by a melody profoundly rooted
A dark wall displaying the desparation of a soul in pain.

Our ancestors loved her, she survived throughout the centuries
In spite of her great fame, she knew how to remain humble
Our hands write her, our mouths recite her with melancholia
She makes our souls dream and our hearts beat:  immortal poetry.