A city, a nation, a people cry out in the night,
History is being engulfed by the hungry tongues of fire.
Your spire, having lasted for generations, vanishes, swallowed by the tendrils of flames,
And the world gasps, a collective scream erupts in disbelief.
Against the thick columns of smoke, your towers still stand,
Backlit by the angry, flickering flames.
After hours, you can finally breathe fresh air,
The fire vanquished by the brave.
Within, the pews and the cross still stand, all untouched against the scorched and blackened walls,
Several of your relics saved from the flames in the night.
A people coming together to rally beneath your towers,
And the promise of you being rebuilt lingers, giving us hope.
On our knees, we pray for healing - both yours and ours -
Our hearts broken, spirits shattered, but with a glimmer of hope.
You have been saved, stronger than anything trying to bring you down.
If history is any indicator of the future, you will be restored.
You are a part of my heritage, my love, my roots,
Eternally beautiful, strong, historical, and fierce.
You are a cultural icon.
You always hold a place in my heart.
You are Notre Dame --
Our Lady… Even in the face of destruction.
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