"Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away.” -Ozymandias
I. O wait for us, Colossus
as we wait - and throw you to earth: from heaven’s gates judge you unworthy - to hades’ lands assign, where your iron limbs make mincemeat out of anguished homes - by tyrants you were thrown but floated aimless past
the drifting realms where once lay hell, and fired you your rocket boosters - apollo’s gift
blinding still your eyes -
II. next, awake: the visage of the Child in your face - languishing, affronted: two vast and trunkless legs of iron glare, only to grow rigid still - slumping at His feet: with heart-engine smoking,
eyes hollowed-black, lying in slumber with giant's knees bent, in grasslands rest and where hearkens the plain - He cries out: ’tis you!
though dwarf, He is - he kneads your iron by grass, and your wounded legs the earth now christens, snd blesses still your sleep.
III. He moves forth with grass blades and twigs, crown you a nest; and bear stones unrolled to where
your feet first kisses ground.
An attempt at "sketching" a cartoon. Originally a photo piece.