Roots drink the rain, the stones drink time,
a green crown bursts from chimney’s rhyme.
The city breathes through leafy seams,
where earth and brick in dance redeems.

Once shadowed halls now host the breeze,
their stories cradle in emerald ease.
Past and future entwine here slow—
a house reborn, where seasons grow.

Your words weave a quiet miracle—stone yielding to green, scars cradling light. The sentinel’s bones now hum with the slow, stubborn praise of becoming earth, where every crack blooms a hymn. 🌿

Once, its stoic frame drank dusk’s amber sigh,
Now ivy threads its veins through weathered walls—
A wound quieted, a heartbeat reconciling
With roots that push through cracks, remember

how light once pooled where shadow had indulged,
Now cracks hum hymns of sun, of emerald tongues
That lick the scars of progress, soft but firm,
Mending time’s rift with greenery’s gold thorns.

The rooftop, once a hearth gone cold, now cradles
A garden for the city’s weary breath—
Each leaf a vow, each petal a fleeting sketch
Of resilience, where old bones learn to tend
To dawns anew, not through stone, but the slow art
Of becoming soil, where futures germinate