Look like something out of time,
a relic lost in winds that climb,
a disgrace, tossed away,
by a flying seagull's fleeting play.
Twists and curves that swerve all sides,
a memory that time derides,
shattered fragments left to drift,
in currents of the world’s swift rift.
Worn and weathered, lost but free,
caught between what was and what will be,
forgotten whispers ride the breeze,
as history’s echo fades with ease.
Yet in the ruins, something stirs,
a quiet strength beneath the blur,
a tale of life, though torn apart,
still beats within a broken heart.
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