Ruins
The grand walls,
The lustrous mosaics,
The pristine pillars,
All of them, rotting,
Detritus.
Yet, in the detestable ruin of these great halls,
How is the scent of mercy still lingering?
Erato, why do I still hear the melodies of your harp?
Persephone, your spouse,
Why is he wandering here?
Eleos, is it you I see dancing in the corner of my eye?
Why does this rain not stop?
Have these once great halls not been cleansed yet?
The wind, its breeze,
How is it so heavy?
