The end is near, as the men with signs say.
The writing is on the wall- crimson red!
The old for purging, and burning away,
Strip the ruins to the foundation bed…
While all that can be reused will be kept,
the broken, the rotted, shall be tossed out,
and all the decay that has slowly crept
into the shadows, the corners, the grout…
Shall be brought into the broad light of day,
to be exposed, and slotted for the purge.
The ruin thus scoured, on full display
the old fading for the new to emerge…
Sacred Blueprints by my own two hands drawn: A self-built temple for a self-made Dawn.
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