The scaffolding stands, a skeletal frame,…

The scaffolding stands, a skeletal frame,
Where a grand structure used to be.
The wind howls through, a mournful game,
Mocking the silence, where life was free.
The architects' plans, now creased and torn,
Lost in the chaos, of what's been born.
The builders vanished, with tools laid down,
Leaving a hollow, in this ruined town.
But a single brick, unchipped and sound,
Lies in the rubble, on hallowed ground.
A craftsman's hand, still has the will,
To lift it up, and start to build.
Each careful placement, a conscious choice,
To give the silence, a new clear voice.
The foundations laid, with steady hand,
A testament to what can withstand.