First Quarto
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A collection of sonnets based on different SCPs.                                                                                                                            

The Architect
The temple now is slumb'ring in its sprawl
The dark of night has taken it upon
But growth can yet succeed within its walls
And rooms within continue yet to spawn
Does wood not crack if alterations made
Continue so to do while it does wake?
Do tiny Buddhas ever truly fade?
And hallways moan, and bones and teeth do break
To craft the yawning caverns of the god?
A frozen earthquake, trapped within the mud
Always growing, shifting where we trod
To craft a place of worship dripped in blood
And later when the lives and walls can't keep
I wonder, will we remember to weep?

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