Castles

It is subtle,

It comes in many forms.

The castle we wish to build,

Lies on a cloud of storms!

In hope yet we lay the bricks,

In passion we stack them tall;

The castle is close to complete,

When the storm blows it all.

It comes in all shapes,

At times early, at times late-

And takes away all the construct,

That could've made a castle great!

The blown bricks fall from the sky,

Hurt heads and hearts all alike;

And there remains no explanation,

To counter the pain that strikes!

But the castle wasn't meant for us -

But for all that have been hurt;

And it's not the bricks that matter,

But the pain absurd.

For Castles built in a day are weak,

They crumble with the slightest crack;

But only cracks accumulated overtime,

Build something that new-fold castles lack!

And when the castle has seen,

All that is and could be;

It is a sanctuary, a humble abode -

For not us, but all that were hurt in its making!