78 Poems Tarot Project: The Tower

Yielding only to flame and destiny, and rendered into dust
The Tower crumbles and begins to fall.
The fullness of its destruction is inevitable.
Torn, falling, brick by brick, and wall by wall.

Is this a metaphor for some internal shadow journey?
Or a dark harbinger of doom, or worse?
Dread curls around your spine and laughs as you relinquish hope
Abandoned, injured, the weight of flesh a curse.

Pray you learned well the Fool's lesson; to leap, with faith, in good time.
Flawed foundations rock; ominous, frightening
Welcome the collapse, raining droplets of Spirit and dirt.
No fear in the storm; raging, releasing, enlightening.

Solid stone stands no more, yet burned and broken flesh is strangely
crawling, quivering, shaking, quite alive.
Ashes swept away reveal new ground, new hope, something shining.
The victory is simply to survive.