There as I sat it spoke to me,
   this wall of asymmetric cracks.
Its faded, soaked cement remained.
   Its light red bricks answered back.
Past these chips of aged white
   the blue sky hung with wispy cloud.
A distant bird with creeping weeds
   through ancient windows spoke aloud.
Here light enfolds these steps of prayer
   where new fresh grass is listening.
The hedges kept with varied plants
   in waving breezes are glistening.
This ruined wall tells its story
   of faded asymmetric glory.