The castle's collapse

We built it slow,

a sprawl of towers and walls,

hand-shaped dreams pressing damp sand.

Then, boots.

A careless crush,

the castle shuddered—crumbled—

turrets flattened, walls bowed,

a single shell left crooked in ruin.

No one said sorry.

Just the sound of wet sand snapping,

shards spilling like broken glass,

and the sharp taste of quiet loss

that falls in the space between footsteps.