By
A. Joseph Mosse' IV
Far within the jungle gloom,
Lay the signs of city’s doom,
Like a body, ruins rot,
Spiders feast on flies they caught.
Crumbling idols, in once grand halls,
Stone eyes inspect their ruined walls,
No longer worshiped, or revered,
Their bodies cracked, their faces smeared.
Abandoned palaces, in past ages,
Had been abode, to kings and sages,
Now are home to wild things,
Through the halls, a beast’s roar rings.
Perhaps mimicking lords long dead,
Who, as I’ve heard it has been said,
Would bellow, yell and then cry,
“That man displeases me, and so must die!”
But all a memory it is today,
How long ago, I cannot say,
It was when men first went to roam,
And left behind their ancient home.
