Now all that is left of the once great structure is but a pile of debris and overgrown stone. The top of the tower now lays in ruin and the plant life surrounding it appears to be creeping ever so close to the edge of the once-prized spectacle.
The Tower looms into the clouds with an intimidating yet protective presence of power. The architect of said building guffaws at the bottom of the Tower apparently amused at the remark of the squire standing beside him.
"The Tower is great forevermore, but the Tower stands nevermore" is thy jest giveth upon thee. Will nature tackle this beast of stone or shall it be replaced by a throne? Nature will be triumphant I am sure, so thy jest I giveth thee is forevermore.