Lonely Pyramid

                   
 
                                             Born
                                    From sweltering
                        Stone amidst the wet green crowds
              No way to grow, yet it climbs above the canopy
   Stretching against the pale blue sky and kissing watchful clouds.
 
                                           Origins
                                  Unknown to modern
                        Man who cultivates your culture
            And reveals your roots without the understanding
   Of why those mystics put them there so many blue moons ago.
 
                                         Serpents
                               Sleep upon your steps
                    And rise to meet your hallowed crest.
            Only twice a year. Only when the sun is perfect
   Enough in his calendar to rise and set upon your yellow walls.
 
   That ancient astronomic wit could not stop his turn to envy
         mortality and its love. And with hell-fire he turned
                The world upon its head and watched
                           As ashes littered where
                                 Bodies burned.
 
                                          Now
                                 The steps are the
                       Lonely remnants of an empire.
         The steps and one final attempt at salvation in time
  That hides like coiled serpent to strike back at the jealous sun.