The Exposition of Beauty Through Tragedy

The leaning of ledges on true fate just fell
True tragedies surface, but take time to tell
And IF there is anything thriving in strife
If MUST be true life

Since dust clouds get thin like a wrinkle gets deep
I squint with impatience and scan the great heap
And not to conclude here, it's too thick to tell
But it LOOKS like hell

I ran through the cloud with my hopes draining dry
Through dust I saw devils and dreaded I'd die
Trees tilted, woods wilted; destruction had won
I wanted to run

Through tears I kept looking and calling in vain
A few friends showed up, so I had to explain
That all of the beauty we built to belong...
We built it all wrong

We circled and prayed with our eyes open wide
At last, we prayed true. We had nothing to hide.
The beauty we hid with the acts that we posed
At last were exposed