Below there are statues
Shrines and idols to gods unknown
Their forms are foreign
Yet a dark familiarity emanates from them
Those gods there enshrined
In their primordial temples built long ago
Are yet to be worshiped
Yet to emerge to the surface above
And claim their followers
Those figures of stone haunt me
I feel they are alive
Waiting and bidding their limitless time
Until they may rise
Though I am keenly aware of a growing suspicion
That they already have