Fallen, fallen these temples lie. Though columns
Yet aspire to mantle dawn, their archways
Sprawl the dirt. Charted aisles compel,
Only to terminate in rubble--while
Path-maker chance his unknown marvels will heave
Out of the hidden land. The roofs have fallen,
And when into the bared luster of dark
The sun has plunged, and night has arched her back
To caress the earth with her secret gleam, then
Vigil-keepers to defend the shattered forms
Will arise, reciting appeals for sustainment
Into the shadows of ruined towers, where
Their solemn minds take rest.

And when beyond
This fate-fractured stonework, the pale sun
Towers once more, it is to gleam--so like a
Songless moon through the diminishing of
The stars--with a piercing and a betraying 
Light. Oh, how somber through the vacant
Sky will crawl this sun in winter, like a split
Tablet, pendent beyond the dormant earth.