Aftermath

There is a silence in my home,
I sit and stare at walls - alone,
The center of my life, my love - is gone,
Murdered by savages with hearts of stone,
My sweet and gentle flower,
Turned into ashes
In Manhattan's gleaming tower,
There are no tears left in my eyes to shed,
The best I ever knew - my Rose is dead...

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2006 Alfred Charasz