Peering through your windows,
I see rays of sunlight revealing your emptiness.
As the air of gloominess caresses my cold heart,
I walk along the plain uncertainty that paints
the rough road leading to your harsh realities.
Your mystique has always intrigued me before.
But now, as I hear many stories of your good old glory days,
I also get a glimpse of the degradation
of the hearts that used to care for you, and
the hands that are now cold and tired to cradle you.
I could feel your pains of better yesteryears —
I am deeply moved and strangely attached.
And surprisingly how your suffering also reveals my own.
While this seemingly perpetual struggle weighs me down,
I still share in the weight of the heavy burden you bear.
Your ruins reflect my inadequacies though unknown to many.
Yet your fight for your very own life sustains me.
In your ruins, I behold the mixture of beauty and triumph
all wrapped up in the trappings of daily suffering.
In your ruins, I feel hope inevitably rising for a better tomorrow,
thriving in the challenges of here and now.
In your ruins, I see love scarred yet still giving
amid the harshness of life’s realities.
In your ruins, I come full circle with the depth and gravity of my own.