your Hanging Gardens are Polyps of Neglect
and yet you set your jaw to the gasp at hand
in Awe of a Flaw at your command…
as your Pyramids sleep beneath Dunes
of Antiquity. the very color of Time.
your harps disassembled.
and your Cherubs lacking
The Craft.

your Great Wall is showing... as You horde your inner Mongolian.
and Yes; your Horses fret... but you can’t yet flee.
for dark Ziggaurats hold sway. and your Cuniform
lacks Character.
your Parthenon Anonymous. where all your Blossoms Purge
Elysium Fields of their burgeoning Rainbows. -
that only seem to Untie
when you want those.

For Life.