On those days when
cathedrals burn (and our hearts doth churn)
along with such sights that twist, wail
we forget of the other places, the
other strange faces that make our lives.
Sure, we held them, turned them and
with a subtle glance attempted to re-earn them back.
Lost but for a little while, rebuilt
like the many stones that can lift and sail.
But for now I wish you rest
your eyes, let the breathe pause for a tad;
for a courage shall soon be needed
that can take that cage, tremble, quake it all
so mightily.
Shake it, make it - break it down.
Let the better angles fly.
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