Empty Buildings

Is there still anywhere a place
in which a palace has any use?
The splendid fortifications of yesterday
have no longer anima or significance.
There are not any fortresses
whose foundations aren’t corrupted.
Our past shelters are dumb and numb,
though their eye still speak volumes
we have lost – we were amputated –
the ability to listen to their eyes.

Void, emptiness, vacuum in their carcasses
is all we can find? It seems no building can
empower us to be as we used to be.
They are unable; they are handicaps,
whose only hope lies in
that those who once crowded them
can find a cure to dumbness.

These creatures still hope that
the great creation reveals to them.
But they do not but grope
in the purple glade of stars
to listen to the word of the wise.
Wise who, by its own wisdom,
know better than to be bearer of news
to that tart race of social animals who
emptied society of its reason of being.

Those animals are done for
because when the sun walks into
they become as blind as their
former fortifications are speechless.
No way out can they find. Hopeless,
meaningless if they cannot appreciate
the magnificence of the edifices.

Locked into their basements,
left aside as a forgotten toy
they hope some wise child comes,
and by ploy of the universe’s will,
the artificer plays with us, and
takes us to the luminosity they once shut
away of those great castles of meaning.