To be what others tell us, but we cannot, this is not justice
In the vagaries of the vulgarities of our pointless existence
Are moments of the symphony of excellence and of beauty
As we are architects or engineers, artists or poets of reality
Foundations built with hope upon stable bedrock of dreams
We create a legacy, deny all fate, and embrace our destiny
Our labors do not free us but they give our dreams form
“A real building is one on which the eye can light and stay lit.” Ezra Pound
