I shiver at the biting chill of the rushing falls.
The mist upon my cheek and I smile,
then I stop and look at the people laughing on this day,
all the while pondering if we will ever see the sun rise again in the east.
Anguish so clear on their faces but yet they laugh and smile.
Together, we stand by this shore,
here where so many have fallen and where the tears still flow.

We are the people—citizens of the world—from the US to the UK.
From France to Spain. Luxembourg to the Netherlands.
The pain to great to shed a drop of which we grieve.
Children run in joy while their parents morn.
Yet many live in dreams of what can never be.
More still can not fade into dreams.
Illusions have always eluded some.
In the end many will fight, many will fall, and many still will rise again.