Pacing through the breaths of must
I listen to some stones.
Stones of stone forever crushed
sound soft of softer bones.

A learned Roman walked this way
with stoic pagan gait.
Reflecting on his world once great
which late, had gone astray.

Words but words
when thoughts have turned
yet silent stones still speak.

Of seeming sameness
was, was not
cannot
should never be.