What blow could break these walls,
their stone volcano-forged and giant-thrown?
What warrior could scale them –
cliff-high and barbed with battlements?
This citadel defied all comers;
bruised by missiles,
flame-charred, siege strangled
it endured ...
... to no avail.
See, those cyclopean blocks
are rent and ruined,
porous to whoever comes or goes.
What army overthrew them?
What apocalyptic force
could lay this fortress low?
None: only the arrow storms from clouds,
the patient siege of freeze and thaw,
the shifting flow of history
that left behind this rock
on the dry riverbed of time.
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