by Nick Gisburne
They find our forms imprisoned in the sludge,
Two lovers, in a passionate embrace.
With patient pain they delicately nudge
The dirt, to pull a picture from this place.
They see us. They uncover us, at last,
Unravelled from the chaos and the flames.
Their histories describe to them the blast,
But not the souls who perished, not our names.
We died in darkness. Finally the light
Reveals our love to sympathetic eyes.
But nothing changes. Now the world will fight
To bless or blame a bond that some despise.
Uncovered from the ashes, we are men.
Reborn, we rise, to live and love again.
