A small spark,
A whimper in the wasted fields;
A flicker from the rising flames of the sun’s
Ignites the hollows in the towers
As queens and princes atop their monoliths,
Reflected eternally in their mirrors,
Cower beneath its rays,
Soon to drown in the inferno.
What need had they of other worlds?
They look out
To the turrets of the others,
And their eyes meet
But they have forgotten how to speak
Without their messenger
Around the shallow towers.
They burn together in the basin of the valley.
True forms lay bare
In the ashes of the holocaust:
Their ruins only a corner
Of this vast deadened landscape;
A hollow wasteland in death
As it was in life,
Orbiting the sun.