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Tryst Sep 2015
What Hope Remained?

What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?
        When putrid plumes dulled morning into night
        Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent,
        As mortals wept and earthborn angels went
        With downcast eyes to clamber heavens height.

What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?
        When panicked sirens wailed a lost lament
        And backs were bowed beneath ungodly weight,
        Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent
        As boots bore souls up treadmills burnt and bent
        To scale a void devoid of dawning light.

What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?
        For those in sight of angels heaven sent
        Atop the world to aid their mortal plight,
        Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent.

        When wingless brethren conquered feared ascent
        To gift last hope to all who saw their might:

                What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?
                Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent.



In The Fall

I chanced upon a stranger in the fall,
Cosmetic garb of office black and white
Portraying calm demeanor of his plight
As shadows panicked on a stricken wall,

And oft' I find my mind in numb recall
To look upon that helpless human kite
Who tumbled from the terrors of a height,
Yet graceful as an eagle in a stall

Before it plummets earthward --   'Neath the pall
Of twisted steel rended by follied flight,
That stranger lives forever in the light
Suspended in iconic timeless sprawl.

        I wonder, in the briefness of his fall,
        Did he derive the meaning of it all?
What Hope Remained: In memory of the three hundred and forty three firefighters of FDNY that fell on Tuesday 11th September 2001, who fought without hope to bring hope to the lost.

In The Fall: Dedicated to "The Falling Man" of Tuesday September 11th 2001, in memory of him and those like him who chose the manner of their own end, when the only choice on that day of days was how, not if or when.
Jwala Kay Jun 2014
I could have been The Falling Man.
No opinions. No intentions of disrespect.
Only a surreal psuedo-pessimist thought.
Always felt something inscrutable
in that drop.

My reference don't tend a joke.
Please don't fuel any sorta controversy.


But can't deny to wonder what
the thoughts would be,
during that fall.
Will the whole spent life flash
in front of our eyes?
Do we become the kindest, humblest of the few and the worthy human
ever lived in that moment?
Do we wish for some last miracle?
Do we still have ourselves cling to
the last scrap of hope of life again?

As I am writing this, my tears
no more stay tamed inside my eyes,
And my heart goes for the massacre lose.
Lose of lives. Loss of humanity.
Old news, yeah, but still hits the soul.

And the fall taunts my thoughts
as I too beg for a second chance
myself.
I shall revive. This is my life.
This thought shall universally exist
and be reasoned with.
Recently stumbled upon the old picture of The Falling Man -.-

— The End —