I write poetry from time to time, so on a sad day like this I choose to write one for the French people. (Sorry If you hate it, but I have gained many accolades for my poetry) (I apologize if I misused any French words, they’re all from google translate) (I also apologize if I offend anyone.):
Brûler
Our Lady, Notre Dame
Stands burning.
The protector becomes the afflicted.
Fathers stop,
Their sons are impatient.
“It’s not everyday Our Lady burns.”
It’s not everyday history is destroyed.
Presidents, Emperors, Popes, Kings, and Queens
All walked her halls.
The Heart of France, Le Coeur de la France
Burns, brûle
A World, un monde
Watches, regarde
Sad, triste
And devastated, et dévasté.
All is lost, tout est perdu.
Silence is broken, sadness is chained.
Voices, voix de paris
Cry out for Our Lady.
Their tone is somber, their hearts heavy.
But together, they cry out for Our Lady.
Our Lady watched Paris for 800 years,
We watched her for one evening.
Beauty, sa beauté
Changes to hideous horror.
Hope will rise from her ashes.
Les Parisiens will rebuild Our Lady.
Her beauty will be restored.
Her scars healed,
But history’s will not.
Today Our Lady burned,
We sit in hushed sadness
Tomorrow we rebuild,
And create new history.
(It takes a lot of courage on my part to post this here, so please be respectful if your critique it.)