Ruins

Primer poema que escribí, primer poema que publiqué (Brainstorming).


Ruins

Good as new, the building stands...
Pores in the wall widening
A current of fisures rushing through the walls
While it smiles, it falls appart, slowly
Glory celebrating decay in motion.

Sliding slime that gathers till the first day
slicing slowly the stones
that from the ground were propelled upwards
by a sudden, hopeful force
just to land again in terrible suspense.

Insignificant dust planning havoc and disease
dispersing through the fields
corrupting every inch
a gust of wind with different personalities
detonating every volatile inch of the structure.

Three windows severely aligned
severely damaged, now twisted inwards
Brilliant simplicity and order, always ignored
crumbles away and is lost in the ignited atmosphere
to become the center of attention of the ash tray.

Straightness and thickness did not suffice for the stone
...As straight as the blades of rain
...as thick as the persistent gust of wind.
Weeds hope to fend the world
with sharp leaves that remain leaves
and sturdy roots that in vain grasps but a handful of earth.
The misery of evading misery.

There is no other hope
but to ignore the past
for the stern wall of stone
that now, inclined forward, its powerful back full of creases,
supports the roof
so stupidly, so admirably.
reproaching itself with sorrow as it bends,
The yonger walls have long fled from its eyes,
now there's nothing to gaze at but dirt
Now with what strength will it maintain?
The only thing that is not certain is when.

It never shined, it was never perfect
The sun of cheerfulness, ignorance and convenience
revealed the dull, trembling countenance
that it once covered but did not erase.


The first step to hapiness causes pain.
...Death stole the moment of triumph
just before crushing the rotting wood
that was openly rejoicing, seconds before
merciful was Time, who gave it such opportunity.