The Tower

It stands, tall and proud.
A pillar to the world.

A tower, split in half by color.
Torn apart by choice.

Alternating, its pattern of black and white stone.
Beautiful to behold, yet strength is given up.

For when visual orgies are the focus.
Strength and unity are lost.

And when we live by a creed no matter what.
We die by that creed.

Those that are brittle, do not adapt.
They cannot weather the sands of time.


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2 Responses to The Tower

  1. I really like this, especially the last two lines, they are very poignant! Keep writing! If you ever want to submit anything to, please do!

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