Great effort has failed and though time is kind to wrongs, this structure we live in seems to be forgotten by all but flies and men who cannot imagine life without them. Great effort has come to worse than nothing a skeleton, a relic looming, inhabiting thoughts, memory, skyline, horizon. New foundations may congeal in unlikely places. Among the relics and forgotten men new spires may be formed from old bones, and the wings of flies. New effort may take hold of hope, make it tangible, relics become the new monuments. Should another great effort fail become the new relic, remember, time is kind, failure is a fly, and memory is kinder still.