Dusk is falling
A dying Sun flings its last resistance
With force at the barrier of cloud
Rays broken and forced through
A sort of osmosis which dilutes
The orange glow illuminates the walls
And on the other side the shadow falls
It looms over the town
The dual lord of the land, The Citadel,
Both menacing and noble
He orders from the peak,
His host of hills
He watches as the river spills
It rushes forth, his bidding in mind
And seems to flood at his incline
The Citadel, windows boarded up
Doors blockaded, locked, and chained
Is forced to drink a bitter cup
The abandon of his fame
As people pass without a glance
This king of buildings
This king of buildings
Shamed and on display
Left to sit and stay
Its pipes unused, rusty, forgotten
It’s wooden trim weathered, warped, and rotten
It’s courtyard taken by a hostile host
The weeds that defile all
Little left of which to boast
The old pool is dry and cracked
The highest towers sacked
The balconies’ railing disconnected and useless
The strength of time having given its abuses
The walls of the perimeter
Have not the strength to deter
Neither the homeless who sleep on the front porch
Nor the thieves and fools which rob its halls
Of whom profanity fills their calls
They rape its beauty with their lack of reverence
And look on it without preference
As if it were a horse’s stable
This palace, given care and time
Could become the richest dwelling
Sad to see the state of that beautiful hotel of hotels
The shame of The Baker of Mineral Wells
Funny to be so sad over a place
Odd to be so jealous of a building
Harder to think of this
Given ten years it won’t exist
Photos courtesy of: http://www.texasescapes.com/TexasTowns/Mineral-Wells-Texas.htm
