In memoriam, September 11, 2001.
So runs my dream, but what am I? An infant crying in the night, An infant crying for the light, And with no language but a cry. –Lord Tennyson
In memoriam, September 11, 2001.
So runs my dream, but what am I? An infant crying in the night, An infant crying for the light, And with no language but a cry. –Lord Tennyson
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Posted in Obituaries, The War
Tagged 2001, Lord Tennyson, Sept. 11, The Falling Man
















