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.