The Desert Traveller

Lost in a storm, I came across, by chance,
a group of mounds – an eerie, haunted place.
Sand grains ascending in a spiral dance
revealed a statue, its eroded face
preserving still an air of arrogance,
and at its feet, part-hidden by a layer
of wind-blown detritus, words could be found.
I read potentes, then opera mea
videte …  oh, what certainty he must
have felt, this Caesar – but I looked around
at monuments abraded into dust;
the desert wind now rules his empty city.
As if to answer me, a sudden gust
revealed the final words: … et spem perdite.*

* The Latin words collectively translate ‘Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair.’
Inspired by Shelley's Ozymandias