Where's the climax gone?

What's the difference between these photos?

Everything that was pulled together was shattered.

 

Time, running to no end. The chapter just descends.

With fleeting rain, the clouds empathize.
History seems accurate when I replay, realize.

There is one that still remain, and the settings as it were.

Trust took its bounds, and I stepped from silver.
Three gems, two distant, one in town.

Precipitation tells of a tale once sound.
The instability rests and return.

Towards those that in my mind, I discern.
Clarity triggers one's becoming maist lorn.

Enduring novelty, embraced by quaint thorns.