The Ruins of September

What great ruins now sleep eternally
on the broken ground of this grey city
Like souls prostrate in mighty grief
In all the world, black disbelief

Human eyes will never again see
the views to Heaven once conceived
in man's own mind
a three pound universe
the same which brought these giants down
tis now the view of Hell unbound

Who were the men, the hands indeed
that set in stone
the hopes, the dreams
birthed by Rome in concrete, stone

Of greatness built to Gods and men
and leveled in seconds by Hell's condemned
A city keens for fallen friends
Yet bent not broken in the final end.