Remnants of a Past

How long have I been sleeping?
I awoke to find myself surrounded.
Everywhere I turned stood familiar ruins,
White columns and walls lie crumbled, nostalgia.

In an instant was overwhelmed with hope.
These were institutions I had invented,
Collapsed by their own faulty design.
I was a blank slate, a new world.

I was free, to start over, to sow new fields,
I decided to walk amongst my past.
The poor quality of thought was evident.
My ignorance had built me a muddied city.

I could now see why I had been wrong.
I built with intentions of elitism, greatness.
I did not realize that by default we are all great.
The butterflies descended; flowers on the breeze.

They perched among every stone remnant,
Of my broken past ideals and desires.
When I saw them I felt God smiling.
His love washed over me, and I was silent.

I breathed in deeply, and released with a smile.
A great wind disembarked from my lungs.
All clues of my blindness were swept away, disintegration.
All that remained were the butterflies and me.

Jail cells, perfect statues, and rivers of tears that eked,
All were dust in the wind, all were no longer me.
I was a child in an attic who found an old truth.
After building blocks of mud, I found marble.

From this place of utopia I will rebuild.
Hope has me by the hand, she will guide me.
Into a brighter tomorrow I float away.
Only until I awake again, remnants of myself.