We’re terrified of being broken
We’re frightened of the truths unspoken
Our fears underneath it all
We are destined to fall
Look at that tower, standing tall
We forget that pride comes before a fall
And in our pride, we are blind to it all
When we finally see the end, we stall
Maybe it won’t happen, perhaps the end isn’t nigh
As the tower crumbles from on high
A lightning bolt strikes the steeple
And debris falls among the people
Written by Miss Wren
Miss Wren Writes 
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