Foundations crumble over the passed years
and our monuments become our ruins.
We begin to architect our own fears
without noticing what we are doing.
We are the dust among our own rubble,
forever floating in a silent linger,
thick enough to cause lungs so much trouble
but fine enough to slip through our fingers.
And all of this beauty will be a mess
which must be swept up as if it was fake
to be covered up in some glossy dress
to distract from the chaos that we make.
Recently I have started to see the cracks
which cannot disguise what humanity lacks.