Remains

The furious roar of modernity,

Crumbling the bones of old,

The remnant dust is a river,

Carving itself onto the foundation of disruption.

Maybe the river has run dry,

Against the toughness of a

Violence tamed and subdued,

Enshrined upon the collective.

We look a little deeper,

Finding droplets here and there,

The traces are still there,

Just not observed.