Lost to the trials of time
Human nature
Combined with unstable
Mass ecocide labor
The edifice likeliness
Face of the maker
The people at war
To construct it the greater
Win over its favor
The flavor of flesh,
Fresh, when nothing else left
As the slavers arrive
To deprive it, bereft
Of the once sanctuary's
Most bountiful feast
Of the treeless extinction
Tradition deceased
Since the first wooden ship
Came ashore on the beach