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Click herethese old walls have heard
erosion grind massifs to dust
tectonic plates collide
chatter of trilobites
dragons tread
and stampede
of mammoth
bison
man
machine
and they will listen
to the cold and empty void
soon to follow
or to a continuous song
lavishing in aftertouch of chords
we strike tonight
these old walls
in the room that contains
all assembled in a freeze-frame
flash folded between everwhen
and evermore
will listen
so let us be heard
and leave hope
once and for all
resounding in echo
when all else
said and done
has faded
the time is now
these old walls are ready
speak if you will
or be held to your peace
forever
well that's what I thought of...anyway marvelous visuals...superb poem!
the Lascaux Cave in France. I could just see the bison drawn over the dusty trilobites, then covered with the thinnest layer of grass smoke and animal fat. very good Liar, I love stuff like this, :)
This is a wonderful poem; it simultaneously evokes the silence of canyon walls with the roar of history. Very nice, Liar!