Beneath a sky of swollen gray
Risen from ashes, dust, and clay
Joists now cracked and body bowed
A ruin slouches by the road

The hollow husk once stood with might
Now lingers in the fading light
The wind still whispers through the beams
Of forsak’n hopes and broken dreams

It listens
Waiting
Evermore
For a voice to answer “what am I for?”
A sepulcher of Fate’s cruel hand
Which scrawled neglect across the land

The plaster peels the rafters groan
Twisted steel and broken stone
The maker’s words infuse the shell
“We lived! We loved! We built so well!”

They broke the ground, they made it bend
But Progress never sees its end
Shadows creep from the shrine of woe
And silence claims what man let go

No gaze will lift, no hand will save
No voice will call, no god will brave
No flag will fly the marble arch
Time will grind in ceaseless march

And while the world still turns with ease
‘neath skies of Nimbus on the breeze
The works of men like Babel grow
Scattered, tattered, ‘cross Earth below