HOPE
By: anonymous
T’was the eleventh of September
In the year Two Thousand one,
And in the evening darkness
As that fateful day was done
Our majestic New York City
Smoldered’ neath the setting sun
In silence through the fading rays
Moving slowly towards the sea,
A ghostly plume of smoke and dust
Now marked the tragedy,
Out of grief and out of sorrow
There will dawn a new tomorrow
It shall rise from out of ashes
There will be a brighter day
For the lady in her harbor
Will guide and lead the way
From the horror of the cauldron
Where do many lives were hurled
There may come a new beginning
Of a more UNITED WORLD
