Time Architect

The architect drew blueprints in the sand Tried to build a tower toward the stars But morning tide erased what evening planned Nothing permanent survives the hours Every monument becomes geology Every empire just a layer in the stone Time renders all ambition poetry Written in a language we can't own We're building on borrowed ground Everything we make unwinds We're building but nothing's sound Just echoes left behind The historian reads fragments of a scroll Trying to piece together what was lost But context died with everyone who knows Now we're guessing at the cost Civilizations rise like fever dreams Brilliant for a moment then they fade Nothing means exactly what it seems When you're standing in the ruins that they made Found my grandfather's sketches in a cardboard box Designs for buildings never built He spent forty years drafting perfect plans Then the economy went and everything tilted Now I'm drawing blueprints for a different world Knowing mine might sit in boxes too But I keep the pencil moving anyway It's the work itself that sees you through...