How can one pick up the seams
of a long forgotten past?
How can restoration ever begin
when the heart and soul
has departed from the rest?

Falling leaves
and dying trees,
shattered glass
resounding screams.

I open my eyes and see a city of gray
a collection of broken people.
The product of a broken past.

I look upon the waste that lies before me
I view the rubble with despair.
This was once a golden dynasty,
a land of abundance,
a city of white.

Now decayed,
fallen into rot and ruin.
Distraught and dying
of intellectual thirst.
The haunted look I see on the faces
the frail cry echoing in the night,
the silent torment
the unheard agony.

Children lie in the street
mothers weep.
Powerful men
keep their power to themselves
They hoard and keep
they watch as their city falls
they gaze on upon the gray.

Oblivious to the torment
untouched by the tears
the heartache and the hurt.

Mountains of ruin
rivers of blood
oceans of tears
growing like a mighty flood.

The dying and the sick,
the weak and the poor,
the famous and the rich,
those wicked lords.

I see them all,
all alike,
I open my eyes and see them.

Somehow, someway
they are the same.
Behind the hollowed eyes
and the overstuffed bellies
the thick fur coats
and the naked flesh.


They are so alike
so similar
these creatures.
They are as one being
one soul,
one flesh.

Shivers coursing
through my veins,
slivers of fear
falling like rain.

Tired and sore
wretched and poor,
weak and frail
I open my minds door.

I enter into a land
A land where no hurt,
nor wrong can ever touch

A place where what is,
is really not,
and what was thought to be remembered
is truly forgot.

I walk through the streets
with new eyes
And gaze upon the ruins
and all their lies.

How things,
then seem so changed
how things that were,
really are not.

The rich were truly poor.
Their souls filthy
***** and wretched,
their hearts blackened
broken and ruined.

Yet those the poor,
and the wretched.
The ones that I had so surely thought
were worthless.
Were truly lords
and conquers

For they controlled their destiny
they governed their hearts.
Kept the undying
innocent and free of all wrong.

And now with this new found vision
A hope arose inside of me

For I then saw
what there truly was to be seen,
a land beyond the physical
a nominal realm.

Wretched and distraught
broken and forgot,
they are beautiful
these ruins.
They are the glorious ruins
of a long lost past.

Through the eye of the father
by the grace of love.
The miracle of salvation
the glory of these shattered ruins is revealed.