I remember that morning, a canvas in red…
Translucent the shadow, no piercing light upon its veil…
Man, as do his structures, fail withering with age…
Wounds, not always, heal with time…
Tragic is in absence and of unknown loss…
Hope lies in present amidst the fog.
Before the final breath, should but one remain…
Remove the veil, it will be known…
The cost of sacrifice is but a price…
For absolutely,
No thing at all.
Curtis C. Greco, Founder
