A world wobbles on its teetering axis...
Onward to Atlas


A world wobbles on its teetering axis
And wonders who could do this thing,
They left with angels in the aisles,
And found a demon on each wing,


Four planes that carried precious cargo,
Turned into missiles by hate and greed,
We find it little consolation
That the hijackers died in this evil deed,


The chill of the hiatus,
As whole nations hold their breath,
Wiping tears from jaded eyes
For the innocents we lost in death,


Unnumbered people have been slaughtered,
And still no sign of who to blame,
So many victims to be martyred,
By an enemy we fear to name.

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