D I L A P I D A T E D

Dilapidated, stripped to bone,
a house the centuries have overthrown.

Laughter once danced through sunlit rooms,
now only ghosts disturb the gloom.

Windows stare with vacant eyes,
watching centuries fall and rise.

Vines have strangled every wall,
turning glory into thrall.

Beneath the dust and broken beams,
a final ember faintly gleams.

Then lightning struck, the heavens soared,
and from the wreckage, something roared.

Not merely saved, nor gently healed,
but born again, in fury revealed.

:: 07.08.2026 ::