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To the Architect
Wherefore ye construct atop sandy grains?
By the slightest shake, thine estate crumbles,
By th’ Earth, swallowed after the gentlest rains,
Or by airy breeze blown, thine walls tumble.
Wherefore ye craft without proven design?
Ye behead columns of their ordered styles,
Ye equalize their curvaceous outline,
And recklessly o’erburden these slimmed piles.
Fool, wherefore ye build when ye must repair,
The divided house which falters within?
Attend, foremost, to these forlorn affairs,
Here, with the reject, the refuse, begin.
Architect, lay out first thine foundation,
Else witness the collapse of thine nation.
-Q-
@WindsPoetic