The Moss Upon Our Ruins

An endless panorama
Of crumbling stone

Wonders and shanties alike
Creep inexorably to earth

Discordant shapes
Scar the skyline
In contortion they beg the sky
And plead mercy
But none listen

None hear the creaks and groans
As the wood warps and splinters
None see the iron rust and buckle
In the damp scathing winds

Sprawling trunks of spruce
Ravage the jungles of glass
No courtesy or contempt is extended
Where indifference is king

There will be no graves
To mark our passing
No monument to this folly

No tears shall lament this scene
A ballad of silence
For the moss upon our ruins