In the distance, where the sky merges with the earth,
Stands the creation of human hands,
Lifeless, but majestic,
Abandoned by time and winds.

Its rusty ribs, like bones,
Push through the green grass,
And the sun plays on them with its rays,
Creating the illusion of life.

But silence reigns around, only an echo of the past,
An echo of a dream that has faded irrevocably,
Here every corner reminds of hope,
That was once so strong and bright.