My
body is a temple, they say.
Well
if that’s true it is an old one,
A
ruin, ancient and out-dated
Transformed
from a strong source of Beauty to a crumbling heap of rubbish
No
worshippers come now,
No
sanctity lift, no voice raised in praise or pleading,
No
one comes to visit
No
one stops in awe
The
once grand stone columns sit as tree stumps covered in mossy green.
The
alter worn down to bits of sand and scattered across the world.
Exposed
to the elements, eroded and broken
Some
say to salt the land, let nothing grow where it stands
A
favorite place for poison ivy, oak and other things
Unsafe
and ugly, people walk faster as they pass.
It
reeks of Death, Hopelessness, Despair and Evil.
All
who sought to visit die slowly, painfully
Caution
tape surrounds it with warning signs spaced round
Beware
the Fate of Temples that lack both love and care!
No comments:
Post a Comment