Basically it is about the 2011 Christchurch earthquake and how the place has changed. This is written from the perspective of the Christchurch Cathedral.
Bustling cars fill bust streets,
Driving here and there.
Buses and trams follow their tracks,
Running without a care.
Crowds of people passing me,
Staring into my eye.
Taking photos and standing near,
As I tower into the sky.
A standing guardian to them all,
So strong and safe I stand.
My bricks are tough and solid,
Linked, hand in hand.
I look around this neat old town,
As crowds of people gather round,
Coming in to pray.
The sound of birds and mobile phones,
Floating on the breeze.
Open shops and stalls and stands,
Selling things with ease.
School kids run and jump and play,
Lying in the grass.
Playing games and eating lunch,
Before the start of class.
The smell of hotdogs lingers here,
Hot chips and donuts too.
Rubbish lying on the cobbled streets,
Chewing gum like glue.
Buskers wait outside the shops,
Playing their favourite song.
Lying like a lion for prey,
They wait all day long.
The sound of birds begins to fade,
Their chirping dies away.
The breeze so much appreciated,
Abandoned me that day.
And then one day it hit me,
My walls began to fall.
So strong and safe I'd towered,
A refuge for them all.
It shook and moved my mighty face,
Tossing me with ease.
I could not withstand its destructive force,
It did with me as it pleased.
And now I lay in ruins,
A dizzy quiet atmosphere.
The safety that to all I was,
Now lies, crushed and bare.
The cars and buses have all stopped,
The traffic jams disappear.
Once noisy buskers don't make a sound,
Quiet to my ear.
Looters run around the streets,
Stealing from the weak.
They take from those who need it most,
Leaving the town dull and bleak.
As I watch these people do their deeds,
A deep sinking feeling falls.
The guardianship that I had is gone,
Along with my hallowed halls.
A tight know forms in my stomach,
A fire forms inside.
The gut wrenching havoc that I beheld,
As so many people died.