Torn and rusted, a shelter for the lost, for the temporal.

A closing set of shots. Sunset for these temples and shades.

Nothing but the dreams of civilization remain.

Something solid for the soul. No arguments, just easy, digestible compositions of stone and sky.

We prop the titans of our history with flimsy structure, temporal and arrogant. A weight of stone and time rests for a moment on metal crutches.

Better move before the walls turn to dust, and you into history.

The final stop before plunging into fantastic waters.