The ruins of the city reach
Out over the vast expanse
Of space and over the mountains breach
Untold stories of Time's chance.
Those concrete pillars high,
with chambered rooms and runner shafts
Reaching to the grayish sky
Tell of how extinct "religious" crafts?

The bones of that "cultured" beast
Are spread and scattered with no shores exempt.
Their flying murder machines (fallen to rust's feast)
Speak of how they held life's lend in contempt.

With thoughtless forces controlling their minds;
They subdued their souls to burial binds.