Lost in a marble bound sarcophagus
a crumbling fountain, wind parting
the lonely tourist couple
staggering from the weight of it all
lost in the billowing wind and pizzaria dreams
I find him, a
towering collossus, ready
to find his own following.
He can not.
Instead, he cries
cries cyanide tears, bitter black
records of time well forgotten.
The sky has never been a deeper blue, and
I find, to my surprise,
that in the city of the ancients,
all the ancients weep.