"Komorebi" (Japanese for sunlight filtering through trees)

(Imagine a lovely little chapel, now abandoned in the wilderness.  That is the image I had while writing this.  What brought such a travesty about can vary, but I suspect the solution will always be similar, if not the same.)

--  

Tread the path that is less well-known,

Dense, foliage overhanging trees

Frames a once lovely chapel now

Forlorn, forgotten place of dreams. 

Windows shuttered, walls in decay,

A strain on the imagination.

Left with nothing but dismay—

Here stood a bustling station.

Brackish water pools from inlet sea,

The smell of pickled brine quite strong;

Mosquitoes buzzing happily,

Little left here that’s not gone wrong.

Brick and mortar, rotted wood slats

All undergoing slow decay,

Behold this former house of God:

Derelict, moldering away. 

A scandal here, a wee child wronged,

The one at fault is now interned,

But faithful folk had lost their faith;

Tragic grief left the gentry spurned. 

Their home for God, crumbling like bread

That sated faith and warmed their souls;

Whence their hope and joy once was fed,

Now bitter grief lies, filled with holes. 

None will play near that derelict,

So desolate, grim, and abysmal;

Where ancient faiths now contradict

The faded hopes of the faithful.

Abandoned, all earth-like decay,

Now reigns bleak, dismal emptiness.

Human souls having lost their way...

How to escape this murky mess?

How Godforsaken folk will feel,

When everything they loved is shed,

Should remind us life without a faith,

Or hope and love, is nearly dead.

Thus we become the desolate,

Muted, corroded, putrescent;

Though meant to live in joy forever,

We end profaned and senescent.

Anger untended will defile

Us, oh corrupted, blighted men!

Regain respect, sweet as a child,

Happily, souls can live again.