The Fall Of Notre Dame

Le Lapin Effrayé

So small a creature of man am I,
To leer at the crystal eyes of Gothic composure-
Of Romanesque, complicated intentions.
Mere no building stand forth as thee, as the cathedral
Of holy promise and Godly necessities-
Leer back at me, For mere no building know my sin
more than the grappling ghouls within.

So simple a being of human am I,
To compare my sufferings of madness to that
Of the wary Goth before me-
The fatalistic gray of brick on brick,
The deep faltering of once glamorous glass eyes,
The valiant knight of architectural antiquity
Now stares down from high above.

It knows what it has done, and it knows of its survival.
Such a beast of Catholic belief dances upon the graves
Of its' fallen brothers of Jupiter,
How Sully frets at the thought of his child falling-
The remnants of two basilicas.

The ruins of bleak gray pray on those below,
Striking mere mortals, like I, who stare
In awe from the eastern half of Île de la Cité.
The Seine flourishes and frolics about the ghastly
Architecture, feeding the ghouls within-
They are lost and they are waiting
To seize their life once again.
Meek mortals of I are unaware of hidden delicacies
Hidden deep within the bounding halls.

Ten bells suddenly cry!
The fear in my human heart is now awoken!
Seize the siege of unearthly mourn, for those
Who awaken weep endlessly with the ring
Of those ten bells!
The bells of heaven erupt in a mighty roar
Against my human ears, they scream!
No such bell had been sounded
Since the fall of Notre Dame.

The buttresses tremble,
And the spout-less gargoyles cackle
As the neurosis of my girlish gaze appears widened-
Such shock enters my being,
It makes me cold, and it makes me sweat.
Such devious looks upon the hearth
Of Our Lady.

So tempted a human of earth, am I,
To run in cowardice from the reddening sky.
The grotesques stand madly and aloof,
Their stone wings gaping at me-
Sneering at me with distraught malice.
No mere building could aspire to such grace,
Yet concentrate on such evil.

A being of absolute fear, am I,
To be frozen in place, as the world around me
Becomes a crumbling disaster.
The Gothic Cathedral trembles and groans,
Splaying the tunes of warping wood and bending brick.
The magenta, discombobulating clouds above
Now shed the tears of pure intentions-
Tainting the brick with crimson water,
Dirtying and bloodying the Seine river below.
No such sadness had been delivered
Since the fall of Notre Dame.

A crowd of human beings form about the borders,
Slicking their hair and gritting their teeth;
Their blood kissed human teeth.
No mere building could gaze at such with
glass stained eyes of wondering hatred.
No understanding of human concept,
No destination of roman worship,
Could be obtained by no other.

Eight-hundred years in the concept of time
Stood this building of old.
Knelling songs and smelted prayers
Linger within the hollow halls.
The echoes of past grievances haunt
Fallen kings, and shallow weaknesses taint
Early mourning mothers,
As the cries and sobs erupt from the
Now burning Lady of old.

Not gas nor flame consumed this spirit,
But the impurity of human smog.
The paint has peeled, and the glass has shattered
As the song of Lady Death ripples the Goth-
Her walls are now consumed within the earth,
Becoming one with her god, and one with her rot.

Her passing had been quick, as I had seen.
Her walls collapsed with grief.
Her breath relapsed into a deep sigh-
The sigh of an old woman knowing
She is to die.
The fall was swift, the fall was quick.
The fall of Notre Dame commenced.

Fair Lady, oh I am grieved
Of your iconic loss and human deceit.
They left your body bare,
Allowing the crows to pluck at the flesh
Of your once gray paint.
Your leer is pale and faint,
For no more holy life resumes within your veins.
No grotesque could protect you from the vile spirit of man,
No spirit of man could protect you from Industry.

But don't be afraid, don't lose faith,
You have fallen into a cavern of lost brethren-
That which now dwell within walls of bone
And sing the song of dire tone, for they can never
Leave, they can never escape in fear of natural life.
The Catacombs of Paris hold them dear,
And now it does to you, for beneath your
Great bells lied such a place.

Bells of ghostly reminiscence ring!
The fear in my human heart, now grief.
Sense the sadness of those who mourn,
For their mother had died an early born.
Her bells clamoring one last time
To sing a final goodbye.

It is I who witnessed such sorrow,
It is I who witnessed such grief.
It is the fearful rabbit who frolicked about
The grasslands of early defeat, to escape the wolf
And to escape the death.
But I, the rabbit, had not been swifter,
For now that stands about my chest is the gargoyle
Who had spread its wings to capture my life in its grip.

I, the spirit of man, weep about my chambers.
To have leered at the crystal eyes of Gothic composure-
Of Romanesque, complicated intentions.
Mere no building stood forth as thee, as the cathedral
Of holy promise and Godly necessities-
Leer back at me, For mere no building knew my sin
More than the grappling ghouls within.

The fall was swift, the fall was quick.
The fall of Notre Dame commenced.