From the Pallet Walled Temple

Wooden walls, worm and frail Echo prayers, lost and pale Splinters trace forgotten hands Fading faith in dusted lands Candles burn with hollow light Shadows stretch into the night No voice remains to chant or weep Only silence, cold and deep The altar stands, yet none kneel near Only dust and whispered fear Time has carved its solemn mark A temple lost to endless dark Winds will tear, and rain will seep Through walls where ghosts still sleep The ground will claim what man has made And leave behind the faith betrayed