Carved and chiseled from marble blocks
These gods created by the hands of man
Endure the waves of generations
Standing tall in their palace
In grand halls where footsteps of pilgrims
Echo softly through the air
Murmurs of awe and silent regard
Clutter within walls and in rooms
Clinging to the opulent figures

Stillness consumes the night
When the halls become barren
And the kings and prophets sleep
Dreaming of a forlorn hope
A return to the prestige of life

Their empires fall like twigs from a tree
Snap and drop to the heart of the earth
Rot and decay in the dirt
Trampled under time’s boot

Only bits and pieces remain
Fragments of a time
Of people
Captured in stone
Damned to watch
As the world turns without them

Chap Newton is a first-year student at the School of Visual Arts majoring in Film. He was born and raised in Austin, Texas. When he is not writing he enjoys video games, grilled cheese sandwiches, and goofing off.