I read the poem “Ozymandias” last night,
Wherein “All earthly deeds shall surely pass”
Is scribed in ancient stone. Is this not trite?
What muse delights in clichés blown of glass?
Between the lines, a brilliant star appears
Proclaiming no respect for gods or kings,
With conscience weak and bruised by reckless years,
In search of peace that only mercy brings.
Whose tears do I see in the pharaoh’s eyes,
Imploring time to sweep his sins away?
Or is he mocking God in rival guise,
Dispelling guilt, thus no more debts to pay?
Alas! Our works in stone we cannot save,
But those of flesh endure beyond the grave.