Stillness erupted.
Spewing remnants of shattered lives,
She engulfed the Urban Jungle
And asked its creatures to hibernate.

She had endured enough.
She sang the song of the
Souls sacrificed and
Harmonized on the horizon of mourning.

The Earth will heal.
Tears will cease.
The desperate Prayers of the Faithful
And Pleas of the Skeptics
Have been heard.

And maybe the answer is “no.”
Perhaps, the response is “wait.”
Or the solution may be hidden inside us all
Waiting for similarities to be celebrated
Instead of allowing differences to divide.

With unknown variables we proceed,
Protecting ourselves and our ideals
In our own way.

We, alone, decide who is Wise and
Who is Foolish while acknowledging
No one is fully either.

In time, the Sleeping City will wake once more.
Stillness will succumb to the Infamous Insomnia
And together we shall remind the Pigeons
This City does not belong to them.