Fortress

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Like abandoned factory buildings,
wrapped in film
and left to fall,
where voices echo
and moments catch themselves
in broken mirrors,
where, in their horror,
they find out they have passed.
Yellow tape and blue floor paint,
covered in forget.
The movement and noise
faded away,
and time settled itself.
People grew up
and grew old,
and tired machinery ground to a halt.
The light falls in through the windows,
where the glass has cracked
and nature has begun her reclamation.
Standing here,
looking at this,
a second can be minutes long.
Bricks will crumble
and the roof will cave,
slowly, but without doubt.
And nobody would tell.
I don't remember this place, anymore.
It's just a space,
where the years hid,
while they were young.
Our living hub.
Our fortress of ideas.
How the eyes age the mind.