Notre Dame has burned today. Our lady of sorrow,
Of culture, of burned. Glow through the night, flames,
Through glass we cannot make again.
The spring sun gleams in Manhattan glass,
Even as damp cold drops unfurl me. Make my skin
Bead with rain like tulip leaves at sunrise.
Her spire falls. She is amputated, her ovum
Smoked. Melted goblets pooled and curled in
Ash across the transept.
Glory be to our lady, burning brightly. Alleluia,
Sing her bones to life. It is a holy weekend,
She will rise again.
About the Creator
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Original narrative & well developed characters