I, a traveler from an antique land
Where the jungle parts saw a red brick stand
Sat atop it, two folded legs of stone
The torso shorn, still held command
Over a cityscape of rubbled brick
Red stubble of sacked streets and Wots.
Upon the walls strewn thick legs and arms
Split naked bodies carved of rock.
Still standing were the bell shaped forms
Lords entombed in solid brick
That ape masons from before their dawn
Who thinned and cooled the muggy tropic.
There, repeated by a hundred hands a hundred ways
Still dusted clean, a hundred shattered visage lay
Who's smiling lips and downcast eye
Knew well the folly of all earthly works
Sabbe sankhara anicca.
Mint growing from the cracks.
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