The Building

They came from far afield to build it
It was a lifetimes tribute to their gods
It towered above their straw thatched village
And people died in piles to see it done

It stood a hundred lifetimes
through rotting grass and congealed blood
It's shadow filmed a thousand stories
Of love, of hope and slaughter

It drove its roots in deep and hard
through countless lives of diverse souls
And when they parted into soil
It looked down and coldly carried on

Its purpose lost and meaning gone
It crumbled slow but sure
and lonely shepherd stopped and stared
and dreamed of all that was

I wonder what these bricks once were
who was it strove to have it born
and what it's known and what it's seen
I walk back home for supper's due

by Mick Law

Comments (1)

A poem with great imagery and history. How often have we stood and wondered at ancient relics and ruins about the life led then. This is very well thought out and produced. Nostalgia woven through it. Love Ernestine XXX