The old structures embrace the storm
The chaos yearns to be still
The aging arch of the metropolis dorm
Smiles at the memories of yore
That each collapsing brick spills
The army amassed conforms
To the dreary drill
Some subjects rejoice, Some subjects mourn
Breaking out of this Bastille
The storm passes
And the debris lay deceased
My birds of thought finally escape the latches
Baffled to say the least
For they don not know the song to sing aloud
Chirp with cheer or ramble and whine
Whether it is the time for the sun to set
Or is it finally the time to shine
A realization through thin air grips
The slate has to be cleaned to draw a new design
For a new beginning there has to be an apocalypse
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