To old, cracked and dripping,
No glory or mark, engulfed by pitting,
Yet erstwhile days contrast the modern,
Intuitive frame untapped to trodden.

Howbeit the fray, heartfelt be stable,
Breathing out wisdom while conjuring fable,
Elate is the keeper and akin alike,
For the roost is warm, and all homelike.

But rock to pebble upon the crust,
Run-Down brick among the dust,
The onset of ruin does bear much fraught,
Only the absent escape the rot.

Guarded tiles bar creation's codeine laced butchery,
Fostering at-arms engrossed with fictitious prospects of eternity,
Fearing the necrotising bodies plastered with senseless agony,
Psychologically detrimental for there is no withdraw from insanity.

But exodus is inevitable within the institution of bereavement,
Mint frame spurn the cracked Psyche of the drafted disorient,
Forcing jittered terror in lieu of beholden for this malcontent,
Thrusting the mortal from snug bulwarks into a morbid accent.

Real dread torrent the battering heart before it spill over,
Clotted plasma fling and flood the metal enclosure,
All breath was taken by the creator’s exposure,
For only it dominates the grand tour.