Standing stones

by joetwo

The works of men

Skilled artisans, heavy labourers

Works for a purpose, with great intend

Vast enterprises, beyond the scale of the day

Left after their builders have long gone

Left in the sun and the rain

Left to rot, for nature’s slow and inevitable wear to do its work

Until there is nothing left

Nothing but a pile of stones

Of no significance

Except maybe their position

So easy to ignore, to overlook

The vanity of great kings

No little more than curious piles in the dirt