The Ruin

Remorseless sun     stunts the dew

Glistening towers     of tainted glass
ignite and blister     in blood-yellow light
recalling the tallest     of crumbling tombs
as humbler graves     harbor their dead
in the clutches of earth     and callous night

The past is draining     through inhuman dreams
no people are packing     backrooms and bars
no pride or empire     rises on ruins
no glance at a face     gleans what is fair

Everyone senses     evil has come

The world we knew     will not be renewed
and gods of technology     are graceless and numb

We call for a hero     but just hear recordings  

Next
YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE

On the Pleasure of Admiring

Elizabeth C. Corey

The great essayist William Hazlitt observed that there is pleasure in hating. “Without something to hate,”...

The Viking History of Greenland

Bella M. Reyes

There was now much talk of looking for new lands.” This line from the thirteenth-century Icelandic Saga…

The Madness in Miami

Nasser Hussain

The great boxing spectacles of the past—the Thrilla in Manila (1975) and the Rumble in the Jungle…